


Gallagher Family Specialties

by anomalation



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: (Frank), (Monica), Child Abuse, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 07:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalation/pseuds/anomalation
Summary: Early canon compliant, sorta. Mickey came out, he and Ian are together, and Mandy got Lip into college but sort of hates him now. The two Milkoviches are still with the Gallaghers, though Fiona's not their biggest fan. Mandy starts establishing healthy boundaries in her life.AKA: they butchered her character post season 3 and I'm mad about it, yeah, so I gave Mandy the (realistic) growth and hopeful ending she deserves.





	Gallagher Family Specialties

Sometimes she wakes up with blood in her mouth, and it takes several seconds to realize this time it was actually just a bad dream.

Carl is always looking at her when she wakes up like that. He’s not the kid she remembers from the last time she stayed here, he’s fourteen. Almost grown up, in high school. And he looks at her like he knows what’s going through her head. Never says anything. Rolls over.

Ian never really notices, but he’s down for a hug whenever she wants one, even if he’s asleep, which is all she could ask for. He’s so warm, smells like soap. She likes to just curl up against his chest on those mornings and remember that she’s home, with the Gallaghers. Safe, sleeping in the boys room. She’s always loved her Gallagher boys, for better or worse.

So first thing, she wakes up and cuddles Ian. Second, she looks for Mickey. It’s instinct at this point, from years of not knowing how she’d find him, bloody and bruised or both. But he’s just asleep on a mattress next to Ian’s bed. Won’t stop complaining about Ian sharing with Mandy instead of him once he wakes up, but he’s happier when he’s complaining about Ian.

Mandy reaches down after a second and taps Mickey’s shoulder. He jerks awake, rolling over, and she whispers, “Hey, shut it. It’s me.”

“Fuck, Mandy,” Mickey sighs. He bats away her hand when he notices it, but he’s not as defensive as he was at Dad’s. Doesn’t even hurt. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He sees through that shit right away. “Why’re you up?”

She makes a face. “Just woke up.” Not exactly sophisticated code, but Milkoviches don’t talk about shit outright.

Mickey makes a bit of a face at her and bites his lip. “Not that bad, though. Right?”

“Nah. I mean we’re here.”

“Yeah, no shit. Wake up Ginger over there, he hid my smokes.”

“Well don’t fucking stand for that,” Mandy says, nudging Ian’s arm.

“I know,” Mickey grumbles.

Ian yawns himself awake, and he throws his arm over Mandy. “Hey,” he says. “Y’good?”

“Yeah, shut up,” Mandy says. “Give my brother his smokes.”

“They’re in my jeans,” Ian says. “Mick’s up?”

“Fucking ask him yourself,” Mickey speaks up. “Move over, let me up there.”

Mandy sits up and leans against Ian’s legs. Mickey hops up and sits back against Ian’s chest. “You feeling okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Ian says. “I’m taking my meds, Mick, I feel fine most of the time.”

“Oh, well excuse the fuck out of me for asking, shithead,” Mickey says irritably, and then he picks up Ian’s hand and kisses it. That’s still new to Mandy, a Mickey that kisses anyone, much less another guy. “What time is it?” Mickey says then.

“6:02,” Carl speaks up from the other bed.

“We’ve gotta get going,” Mickey says to Ian, and nudges her leg too. She and Mick are getting their GEDs at City College, and Ian’s going to school to be an EMT there too.

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” she asks Ian, knocking his knee with her knuckles. “Midterms coming up, right?”

“Yep,” he says. “Your tests are coming up too, aren’t they?”

“Don’t even act like that’s a big deal,” Mickey snorts. “Mandy’s got the history shit down pat, and I’ve got the math shit covered. We’d have to be dead not to pass it.”

Mandy nods, but she’s also kinda scared she’ll fail anyways. There was never any doubt in her mind that Mick would do well once he decided to apply himself, but that’s Mickey. He’s always been smart. “Well, good luck,” Ian says. “I helped Fiona study, I can help you.”

“Nah,” Mickey says. “That’s what I’ve got a sister for. You focus on that life-saving shit. You wanna shower before Carl gets in, y’better get going.”

Ian listens to him. “Thanks,” he adds on his way to the bathroom.

“How is it being married,” Mandy says, and Mickey grins instead of trying to hit her. Fuck, he’s changed.

“Hey, like I’m the first one of us to live here? C’mon.”

“Doesn’t count if your husband resented you the whole time and didn’t bother to fucking tell you,” Mandy mumbles.

“What the fuck did Lip do?” Mickey frowns.

Right. They never got around to talking about this shit. “Whatever,” she says. “Bygones. It’s fine.”

Mickey leans over the edge of the bed and digs around in Ian’s jeans, comes back with a cigarette that he lights. “I can kick his ass any time I want, y’know,” he says in his stupid stubborn tone of voice. “Just name it.”

“I don’t want you to kick Lip’s ass, I want to stop talking about it,” she says.

He hands her the cigarette. “You practice those math questions for the practice test today?” he says. Like he’s asking her if she cleaned the blood out of the car’s grille.

“Yep,” she says. “Until I got all of ‘em. You get through that list of fucking battles, or whatever?”

“Hell yeah,” he says, then laughs. “The fuck are we talking about?”

“Fuck if I know. You got a clean shirt?”

“Yeah, that duffle by Ian’s shoes.” Mandy gets up and pulls off her shirt to change without really thinking about it, until Mickey goes, “Hey, watch your tits. Jesus.”

Oh right. Carl. She glances over, though, and Carl’s pointedly looking away. Probably seen hers enough that he’s not interested anymore. “Whatever,” she says. “It’s family.”

“Yeah,” he snorts. “‘Cept less guns and no Dad.”

“So two hundred times better.” She pulls on some jeans too, and runs her fingers through her hair. “When’s Fiona gonna-“

From downstairs, she hears Fiona yell, “Kids! Breakfast!”

She doesn’t like the way Fiona looks at them. Like they’re still delinquents who don’t belong here, even though Ian keeps telling her they do. Mandy never eats breakfast just cuz of how Fiona looks at her when she tries, and when Mickey notices that he gives her his toast, and stands right next to her too, cornering her by the sink. Mickey wants to think he can protect her from everything.

“Carl, no shivs at school,” Fiona says firmly. “C’mon, you know that.”

“I know,” he says. “Some bitch is giving Debbie shit.”

“Which bitch,” Fiona says after a second, looking between him and Debbie.

“Holly,” Ian says. He’s eating and reading on the other side of the counter.

“Take a roll of quarters instead,” Mickey says. “Less evidence.”

Carl grins. “Cool.”

Fiona gives Mickey another look for that, and Mandy wants to scream. He’s helping her stupid kid, why the fuck is Fiona on her high horse about that?

Ian notices she’s pissed. Carl too, she thinks. Kid sees a lot while his siblings talk. “Hey Mandy,” Ian says. “Do you work tonight?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Won’t be back till late. The room’s all yours.” Fiona’s listening to them. Fuck her.

Mickey gets a dumb smirk on his face, glancing at Ian, but Ian just rolls his eyes. “When are you off? I’ll walk you home.”

“I don’t need that,” she frowns.

“Okay, but it’s happening. When?”

Mandy feels kinda embarrassed, in a weird way, but she tells him anyways. “Eleven. I don’t need protection.”

“Let the kid do what he wants,” Mickey says, takes a sip of Ian’s coffee. “I’ll come, so you’ll actually have protection.”

“Fuck you,” Ian sighs.

“Mandy,” Debbie says loudly, coming down the stairs. “Tell me how this looks.”

“Good, you look great,” Mandy says firmly. She does, too. She’s got more tits than Mandy does now, she looks cute. Normal teenage girl cute, even, so Mandy doesn’t understand the look Fiona gives her about that too. So Mandy waits outside with her backpack. Almost has a smoke, except she’s trying to stop.

Mickey’s out first. “You got my shit?” he says.

“Yeah, backpack.”

“If Lip did something fucked up,” Mickey begins.

“Lip did a lot of shit, it was like five years ago and I’m over it, Mick, Jesus.”

“Guy’s an asshole,” Mickey says defensively. “Basically looking for an excuse to kick his ass at this point.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Ian would like that very much. And we don’t need to give Fiona another reason to hate us.”

Mickey raises his eyebrows, but he doesn’t get to answering before Ian comes out, and they try to avoid badmouthing the Gallaghers while he’s around. “So why are you mad at Fiona?” is the first thing Ian says, and there goes the badmouthing thing.

“I’m not mad at her,” she says to start. When the lie doesn’t work, she tries again. “She’s the one with some kinda problem with us.”

“What? What do you mean?” Ian frowns.

“Nothing,” Mickey says. “She’s being an oversensitive bitch.” Mandy goes to punch him, but Ian does first.

“Fuck you,” Ian says. “You have to listen, man, girls know shit. What do you mean, about Fiona,” he says to Mandy.

“I mean she doesn’t want us here, and I don’t want any fucking charity either. She doesn’t like us, she thinks you’re better than us. I can go back home, I don’t need anybody’s handouts,” she snaps.

“Don’t do that,” Mickey says. “It’s not even our house, anymore. If the bank don’t have it yet, the whores still do, and I don’t want back in that shit.”

“No one said you had to come,” Mandy tells him.

Ian puts his arm around her. “Mandy. We want you here. We love having you here. And if Fiona and Lip have a problem with that, they’re idiots.”

“And Lip?” Mandy sighs. “I swear to God.”

“The hell is up with Lip?” Mickey says flatly. “I’m going to kick his ass if I hear one more thing.”

Ian smiles. “Lip’s an ass who never knows what’s good for him, and he doesn’t like to be reminded of that. He’ll be fine, and Fiona’s… well. Fiona’s having a rough time.”

“That's bullshit,” Mickey says. “We’re kicking in more than our fair share to her fucking squirrel fund or whatever. I even gave her half cut of the gun running shit Iggy does. What the fuck does she have to bitch about?”

“She’s just worried about the kids,” Ian says. “She doesn't want people to fuck them up any more than Frank and Monica have. And Jimmy. She’s barely cool with Gus being around more, and she’s married to him.”

“Oh so we haven’t fucking done enough?” Mickey is still grumbling.

“She doesn’t know about all of it,” Ian says. “Like you applying to colleges for Lip, Mandy, or Mick, you getting me to come back here. Haven’t really talked about it. She’s been busy with that job, and Gus and shit.”

“Not my fucking problem.”

Mandy kinda has to agree with her brother. “I mean it Ian, if things don’t change I know how to take a hint. I’m gone.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Ian says, and Mandy knows when to drop something so she lets him and Mickey change the conversation to some macho punching movie whatever.

So turns out Ian’s promise about talking to Fiona wasn’t anything immediate. Mandy has to ask him about it twice before he actually says anything - but still, she reminds herself, that’s more than anybody else would do for her. Fiona’s basically their mom, and they don’t want to piss her off.

Ian brings it up after a late movie night. Probably because everybody’s had a lot to drink and he’s feeling brave. Mandy’s half asleep on the couch, and Mickey’s out for a smoke.

“Hey, Fi. What you got against the Milkoviches?” Ian begins.

“What’re you talking about?” Fiona answers.

“Well you said they could live here, and they’re pulling their fair share, but you’re still treating them like shit. Y’know they should be able to eat without you getting territorial.”

Hell yeah. Ian’s fighting for her. Still catches her off guard, and if she were a little more awake she’d think about crying.

Fiona’s quiet for a second. “Where’s this coming from?” she says. “I mean since when are you concerned about that shit? Is Mandy-“

“Don’t blame Mandy,” Ian says. “She’s my best friend. And Mickey’s my boyfriend. And if that’s not good enough for you, then how’s this - Mandy’s the reason Lip even went to school. She paid like a grand and filled out a thousand pages of forms.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she’s a good fucking person, and she loves him. And he never even said thank you. You checked how much they’ve put in the squirrel fund?”

“No…”

“Do it.”

Mandy turns over so her face is near the back of the couch and she can smile. Ian loves her, he’s going to bat for her. She’s never deserved the Gallaghers.

“Shit,” Fiona says, voice distant. “The two of them have made more money than me and Deb combined. They put it all in here?”

“No,” Ian says. “They’re keeping some back. Kinda like they can tell you aren’t all in either.” He sits down next to Mandy, and she feels his hand on her leg for a second.

“Yeah, yeah,” Fiona sighs. “Point made. I’ll try.”

They fall silent, and after a second she hears Mickey come back in. “Yo, Ian, when’s lights out? You gotta keep up that regular schedule shit or start tweaking again.”

“It’s called being manic,” Fiona says shortly.

“Whatever,” Mick says after a second. She knows that tone, but before she can process it his cold hand is on her cheek. “Hey, sis. Bed, c’mon.” He helps her up by the hand and kinda pushes her towards the stairs. People can say what they want about her brother, but he always gets her out first.

“I’m not manic," Ian mumbles on the steps. “These meds are working.”

“Yeah, I know they are. Pretty obvious when they weren’t. Jesus, Mandy, you forget how to fucking walk?” he says, but he puts both hands on her shoulders to help her get to the room. “So how about you get the floor now, and I get Ian’s since I’m the one putting out,” he says.

“How about you fuck off,” Mandy says.

“Everybody wants me,” Ian says smugly.

“I am not waking up to midnight blowjobs,” Mandy adds, getting in Ian’s bed. “And I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“Get your own boyfriend,” Mickey says, but he doesn’t mean it. He sits on the edge of the bed by the window, and reaches over to open it. She makes room for him. Ian climbs over her to lie down too, feet tucked under Mickey’s leg.

“You really did all that shit for that guy?” Mickey says to her.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?” 

“The fuck did you get a grand to waste on that bullshit?”

“Stole and sold stuff,” she says. “What, like you haven’t done some stupid shit for yours? Like come out in front of Dad at the Alibi?”

Mickey shrugs. “Whatever, man. Who the fuck cares, I’m just asking a question. Waste your cash however you want.”

“Wasn't a waste,” Ian says. “Lip’s getting a degree because of you.”

Her eyes are pricking. “Thanks. I guess. Whatever, don’t you need to be going to sleep?”

“Yeah,” Ian yawns. “Technically. Anyone know where Carl is?”

“He’ll be fine,” Mickey says. “Go to sleep, I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

Since fucking when does Mickey volunteer to do extra shit for people that isn’t a beatdown or a hit. That’s what Mandy wants to ask, but she also doesn’t want to ruin the vibe. Mick’s chill right now, and that’s not something that lasts. So she keeps her mouth shut. Milkovich family specialty.

They study in their bedroom most of the time, alone or with a few Gallaghers doesn’t make much of a difference. Distractions aren’t really something that can stop them, and Mandy can tell how much Mickey loves being enough of a family member that the kids bother him.

“Hey Mandy do you have earrings that would go with this outfit?” Debbie bursts in to ask.

“Where are you going?” Mandy asks.

“Movies, with some friends.”

Mandy pulls out the ziploc of earrings from her bag. She wasn’t going to say no. “Awesome. Don’t go anywhere alone.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Debbie gasps. “Ooh, those. Please?”

“Sure, whichever.” Mandy picks out the matching pair and puts them in Debbie’s palm. “You look cute.”

Debbie smiles. She looks gorgeous, actually. Growing up to be hot. Mandy wants to break the arms of any man who touches her. “Thanks. We’re selling joints and beer. Some extra money for the winter.”

That’s the Debbie she’s proud to mentor. “Fuck yeah, right on,“ she says. “I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve passed this fucking test.”

“It’s cool. School is as good a job as anything else,” Debbie says. “And most places get mad when people lie on their resume. Let me know if I can help.” She smiles at Mandy, and she leaves.

Mickey gives her an extremely casual look. “So since when are you the big sis?”

“Shut up. Show me how to do these quadratics again?”

“Alright. Didja try the formula?”

“Yes, I tried the fucking formula,” she says impatiently.

“Lemme see.” He takes the paper from her and examines her work, chewing on his lip. “No, you did two plus three, you shoulda done two times three. Try that.” He hands it back.

“Shit.” He’s right.

“So I get the complicated stuff but I can’t stop fucking up the simple shit?”

“Just stop worrying about it and you’ll do better,” Mickey says. “C’mon.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Look, y’got six more left and then we’re moving on, so I don’t know what the fuck you’re bitching about. Just do it, Dee, you’ll be fine.”

Again. Easy for him to say. But she tries, she does the six and gets most of them right after the first or second try, and then they move on to English, where at least she can hold her own.

Carl’s the next to run in, with a black eye and split lip he didn’t have this morning. “The fuck happened to you?” Mickey says sharply.

“Got into a fight,” Carl mumbles, putting a bag of frozen peas over half his face. He hops onto Ian’s bed, where they’re both sitting. “Are you studying?”

“Yeah, it’s really fucking boring. What were you fighting over?”

“Some kids called Liam a retard again. So I bashed their faces in.”

“Yeah?” Mickey sounds impressed. Mandy rolls her eyes.

“Yeah,” Carl grins. “Chipped Danny Park’s tooth, and I think I broke Nancy Iverson’s nose.”

“Nice. Put it here.” Mickey holds his hand out for a high five, and Carl is thrilled to return it. “Y’need me to stop in? Do a little damage?”

“Nah. But I’ll tell you if I do.”

Carl actually does his homework, for the first time ever, sitting on the floor by them and glancing up at Mickey like he can’t believe he’s real. And Mandy wants to tease him, about being a big brother to someone other than her for the first time ever, but she likes the moment too much.

They hear when Ian gets home. “Mick?” he calls soon as he’s in the door.

“Up here,” Mickey calls back.

Ian comes up the stairs loudly and Mandy has time to stop writing and close the book so it doesn’t get crushed when Ian jumps on top of her brother. They kiss long enough for Carl to groan loudly, and even then Mickey is smiling when Ian gets off him. “Hey,” Ian says then.

“Hi,” Mickey says, trying to sound angry and only managing to sound delighted.

Ian leans over and kisses Mandy’s hair. “Hey.”

“Someone’s feeling good today,” she says. “Classes went well?”

“Yeah,” Ian says. “How’s studying?”

“Fine,” Mandy says, as Mickey answers, “Bullshit.”

It’s both, and it’s a little better with Ian between them. He sits with them while they’re working.

“Kids! Dinner!” Fiona yells from downstairs.

“So I was thinking we could go out this weekend,” Ian says to Mickey on the way down the steps. “What do you think?”

“Sure,” Mickey says. “But if it’s the same gay ass place you worked, then I’m taking brass knuckles. Those fucking creeps can’t keep their hands off you.”

“Gross,” Carl grins some more. “Can I watch?”

Mickey isn’t sure what to say. Ian answers. “Nope. Past your bedtime.”

“Damn.”

“Don’t worry,” Mandy says. “I’m sure Mick will punch someone during daylight hours one of these days.”

Mickey flips her off, and Mandy hops on his back for the last few steps. Bad call; Fiona looks at her weird cuz of that. Honestly, though, Fiona probably would’ve looked at her weird regardless. Found a reason.

While everybody’s sitting down, Mandy and Mickey realize Fiona didn’t set places for them. Fuck. Mickey leans against the wall behind Ian, but Mandy doesn’t have an Ian. So she gets herself a plate and eats in the kitchen. She’ll be fucked if she lets Fiona have the satisfaction of seeing she feels out of place.

Carl looks up as Fiona’s serving everyone. Mandy watches him realize Fiona forgot - or deliberately ignored - them, and then she watches him bring his plate over to the kitchen counter with her.

“Carl, what are you doing?” Fiona sighs.

“I’m eating,” he says. “We don’t have enough seats.”

Fiona looks at Mandy and Mickey, and she didn’t just forget. It’s obvious from how she’s looking at them. “This is a one-time thing,” she says sternly.

“It’s fine,” Mandy says. “Ian and Mick are being gross, anyways.”

“Totally.” Carl shoves food in his face. “What’s vegan mean?”

“Uh, means you don’t eat anything but plants. Why?”

He shrugs. “This girl at school’s a vegan. She says she won’t date anybody who isn’t.”

“Y’gonna try it?”

Another shrug. She thinks he’s looking for advice. “If she wants you to change, she isn’t really interested in you,” she says. “You could do better.”

That makes him blush. “Thanks. How does anybody survive eating just plant shit?”

“They’re rich,” she shrugs, and he nods knowingly.

“Bullshit,” he says, and she laughs.

He makes it not as obvious that she isn’t welcome, and Mandy really appreciates that. So who really cares that Fiona’s annoyed by it.

Mickey knocks into her as he’s putting the dishes in the sink. “Ey, you good?”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t believe her. She thinks he’s probably right not to.

The Milkoviches have studied their asses off. The test is tomorrow. It’s basically impossible to sleep well.

Mandy wakes up around two. Mickey’s not in his bed, but Carl is, so she doesn’t worry about it. Her brother can take care of himself. But when she opens the bathroom door, Mickey’s in there, smoking leaning on the bathtub. He starts when he sees her, and then he settles back in. “The fuck are you doing?” he says.

“Taking a piss.”

“Oh yeah?” He looks pointedly at her as she sits on the closed lid of the john. Mandy just holds her hand out for his cigarette.

“Why are you up?” she asks when she’s handing it back.

“Same reason you are.” Mick is looking at her when he thinks she’s not looking. Done that since they were kids, and he’s never been any good at it.

“Is Iggy doing okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Asking about ya, the school shit.”

“Nice of him.” She takes a deep breath, shuts her eyes. “Y’think Fiona’s asleep?”

“Dunno. Probably, doesn’t she work tomorrow? Why.”

Mandy takes his cigarette back, and after one last drag, says “I can’t sleep, I’m going downstairs.”

She doesn’t ask, but Mickey comes anyways. The house is dark, so Mandy turns on the lights in the kitchen and opens the fridge. “What, you gonna have something to fucking eat?” he says.

“I don’t know,” Mandy snaps back. “Maybe I’m fucking… hungry.”

Mickey snorts, and he goes to the cabinet above the coffee maker. “Here,” he says, tossing something at her.

She catches it. It’s a tea bag. “Tea,” she says flatly. “Really?”

“Yeah fucking really, it’s Ian’s. It’ll calm you down and shit.” Mickey puts the kettle on the stove and lights the burner. “Sit down,” he tells her, and there’s her big brother. She sits on top of the counter since Fiona isn’t there to give her shit, and Mickey leans next to her, his arm touching her leg. Silent support.

“I’m calm,” she says belatedly.

“Yeah you’re always fucking calm,” Mickey says, complaining about it somehow. “You know what I mean, though.”

She does. “Fucking Fiona,” she says. “You should stop her when she’s giving you shit.”

Mickey makes a face. “Y’kidding me? I don’t care.”

“Bullshit, you fucking care. You’re taking care of Ian, and she’s giving you shit about the names of whatever stupid bipolar thing? That’s fucking-“

“It’s Fiona,” Mickey says. “And Ian’s her brother. I get it. Alright? Look at how you’re acting.”

“Yeah,” she says after a second. “Well still.”

He nods, rubs his knuckles in his eyes. “Well don’t worry about that shit. You aren’t going back to the house.”

“Why, because of your grudge with Svetlana?”

“No, bitch, because it’s a shit hole and you aren’t gonna to be anywhere near there without me. And I’m not going back there. No fucking chance. And all your shit’s here, y’gonna move it?” The kettle starts hissing, and he takes it off, fills a mug with boiling water and gives it to her.

“Thanks,” she mumbles.

“Fuck you,” he sighs, and he gets her honey, too.

She takes a sip once it’s finished and cool and everything, and she has to admit it does make her feel better. “This isn’t bad,” she says.

“Told you.” He crosses his arms. “It’s Dad, right?”

Fiona comes in down the stairs as he says that, and Mandy feels a jump of fear that she knows doesn’t make sense. She’s a Milkovich, she knows better than to be scared of someone that won’t hit her. But still. “What’s this about your dad?” Fiona says, already looking fierce.

“Nothing,” Mandy says.

“Is he getting out soon?” Fiona pushes.

“He ain’t getting out ever,” Mickey says firmly. “Y’coming to check on us, or what? Y’think we’re gonna take something?”

“No,” Fiona says. “I was just checking, didn't know who was down here.”

“Well it’s us,” Mickey says, with that no-shit tone Mandy tries to imitate. “And I bought this fucking tea for Ian in the first place, so you don’t gotta worry about us taking food out of your kids mouths, or whatever.” And he shifts in front of Mandy in a way that makes it pretty clear Fiona won’t be getting anywhere near her. Just in case.

“Okay,” Fiona says, sounding kinda defensive. “Geez.”

Mickey turns his back to her. “That working for you?” he asks.

“Yeah, thanks,” she says quietly.

“C’mon,” Mickey says, pulls her off the counter and escorts her to the stairs. “Our dad beat the shit out of us, just so you know,” he says suddenly, before they’re more than a couple steps up. “We don’t like the guy any more than you do.”

“Hey,” Fiona says fiercely.

He flips her off. “Fuck you.” And he pushes Mandy up the stairs in front of him.

“So I’m not supposed to overreact?” Mandy says to him.

“Fuck you too,” he says gentler. He shuts the door behind them, and he doesn’t complain when she sits next him on his mattress on the floor. “Shouldn’t have said that,” he finally adds.

“Who gives a shit, it’s true.” Mandy takes another sip of her tea.

“Yeah, but. Fuck.” Mickey lets out a deep breath. “She’s just gonna get weirder about everything. Fuck.”

“Stop it,” Mandy repeats, and after a second of thinking she pulls him closer by the arm and kisses his cheek.

“What the fuck, Dee,” he says after, pushing her away, but then he returns the kiss, one on the side of her head. “He’s not out for twenty years. If he doesn’t die before that.”

“I know.”

“No chance of getting out on overcrowding, either.”

“I know,” she repeats. “But that doesn’t exactly help, right now.”

“Yeah,” he says after a second. Doesn’t help either of them.

“Hey,” Carl says from his bed.

“Fuck, you’re awake?” Mickey says.

Carl rolls over to look at them. “I have a gun.”

“Shit,” Mandy says.

“Yeah, and six knives and throwing stars and brass knuckles. I can show you.”

Mickey bites his lip. “Okay,” he says after a second. “But our dad isn’t your problem.”

“Sure he is.” Carl hops down out of bed. “Okay so the gun isn’t loaded in case Liam gets into it, but it’s here.” Taped to the bottom of the dresser. “The bullets are in this sock.” He pulls it out of the top drawer and then puts it back in. Then he shows them the knives, in duct tape sheathes under most things in the room, throwing stars behind a desk and under the mattress and a lot of places. There are a lot of weapons hidden in this room. And it makes her feel a lot better. Mickey too.

“Thanks,” Mickey says when Carl’s done, extremely awkward about it.

“Sure,” Carl says. “Are you a good shot?”

“Yeah. You?”

“I’m alright,” Carl shrugs. “Will you take me shooting?”

“Sure.”

Mandy’s tired. She sits on the edge of Ian’s bed and puts the empty mug on the windowsill. “Carl’s got school,” she says to Mickey.

“Fuck school,” Carl says.

“Your sister will be pissed if you don’t graduate,” Mickey says.

“I could graduate with my eyes closed,” Carl grumbles, but he gets up in bed anyways.

Mickey watches her lie down, then he leans over her and puts his hands on her shoulders. She’s not big on being held down, and he knows that. “He ain’t shit,” he says. “Even if he ever gets out, he won’t touch you. Over my dead body, alright?”

“Don’t say that.”

“Well, I fucking said it, so deal with it.” He lies back down facing her.

Mandy has a lot of thoughts she wants to voice, about her loving him and how hard she’ll fight for him too. But everything gets stuck in her throat, so she leaves it alone.

Mandy opens the letter by herself in Debbie’s room, scared to want anything as much as she wants this. To pass. Or she means to open it alone, but Mickey kind of barges in to lean in the doorway. “Hey,” he says. “So?”

“I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Well fucking open it, I passed.”

“I know.” That just makes the fear hotter in her gut. Fuck, she’s scared. Mickey’s smart, so he passed but she’s never had any delusions of being like him. Question is just how stupid she is, and she’d rather find out alone first.

“Jesus Mandy,” he says when she’s still hesitating.

“Fuck you, Mick,” she snaps. “I fucked up the english shit, I know I did.”

She sees it coming, but she still can’t stop him from snatching the letter from her and opening it while he runs from her down the stairs into the living room. He turns at the bottom of the steps and looks from the letter to her. “Fuck,” he says. “You got a better fucking score than me.”

“Shut up, I didn’t.”

“You did, look.” He shows her the letter.

She did, in a couple of areas. Overall too, by a couple points. She starts crying, and for once her brother doesn’t give her shit about it. “Hey Ian,” he yells to the kitchen. “She fucking passed.”

Ian comes running to wrap her in a bear hug, bringing Mickey in too. Carl jumps in next, and then Debbie. Even Fiona comes to pat a few backs and grin, and Mandy feels so just… happy. She passed, and fuck, she and Mickey are the first in their family to graduate high school.

“What’s going on?” No one hears Lip coming in until he speaks. Mandy can barely look at him. He looks good a little older, curly hair longer on top and as charming as ever. His eyes are so blue when they meet hers for a second. Always looked more blue when it was cold out.

“The two of ‘em passed their GED,” Fiona says after a second. “Flying colors.”

“Wow,” Lip says after a second. “Good job.”

“I’ll get V and Kev and Tony, we’ll have a party,” Debbie proclaims, and she runs out before anyone can tell her no.

Gallaghers know how to party, that’s for fucking sure. V brings two boxes of wine and her baby girls, Kev has harder liquor and a giant diaper bag. Gus isn’t back from his gig yet, but Tony stops by from next door. Been easier feeling good around him ever since he came out.

Fiona turns on the music after a few drinks, and everyone starts dancing. Mickey can’t stop smiling around Ian, and he even pretends to dance a little too. Mandy jumps around with Deb and Carl, and ignores Lip completely for as long as she can. Basically until he corners her in the kitchen when she’s getting another glass of wine.

“So GED,” Lip says. “You’re what, nineteen?”

“Oh yeah, I know, a whole year behind,” Mandy mutters.

“That's not what I was going to say.” Lip takes a swig from his beer. “What now? College?”

“No,” she snorts. “I can’t pay for that shit.”

“You could get a scholarship, go to City College and-“

“No,” Mandy says. “I need to work.”

Lip gives her a tight smile. Seems like he feels guilty. “Right. Well. Good job.”

She wants to tell him to go fuck himself, but it doesn’t come out. Fuck him, though. She doesn’t need him. She’s better without him. “How’s MIT?”

“Fine,” he says. “Building shit.” Sounds condescending. Probably thinks she’d never understand the details. Fuck him, really. She leaves.

On her way back to the living room, she runs into Ian, literally. “Mandy,” he says happily, and he wraps her in a bear hug. Mandy does not enjoy hugs. Almost infamously, actually. She punched a guy in the balls for it. But she’s always, always loved Ian hugging her. She rests her forehead on his chest and lets Ian make her feel small.

“Ey,” Mickey joins them, one of the baby girls on his hip. “Ian, where should we put the kids?”

“Uh, Debbie’s room, for the girls. Right? What did Fiona say?”

“Didn’t ask her, I’m asking you.” Mickey’s good with babies. He holds this one close to his shoulder. “Mandy, y’wanna grab the other one?”

“Okay.” Mandy agrees before she realizes that means talking to V. But Mandy’s civil when she does. She smiles when she takes the baby.

Probably also as important is V letting her. “They like to sleep together, lil Gemma on the right,” she says. “You’ve held a baby before, right?”

“Yeah, Yev,” Mandy says.

“Right. Okay. So you’re practically an expert. Thanks, girl.”

Maybe she’s nice cuz she’s drunk. Mandy doesn’t let herself think about it too much. She takes the baby up to Mickey, in Deb’s room. “V says to put ‘em in the same bed,” she says.

“Yeah, I heard. The fucking lungs on that girl. Y’know, how we’d end up being the ones to put her damn kids in bed?”

“Nice people, I guess,” Mandy deadpans, and he laughs.

Mickey brought his mattress in for the girls. Bed situation is gonna be rough tonight, but she prefers that. A house so safe three families are staying there. Far fucking cry from theirs. But she’s not thinking like that tonight. She got her GED, and she’s happy. So she gets shit-faced, dancing and smiling and just not thinking for as long as she’s able.

The end of the night is quiet, three in the morning and everyone’s on the edge of drunk and hungover. Mick and Ian are sharing the chair, curled up together and sleeping, and Mandy feels so much about them, love and envy and pain. When she’s not napping too, she watches from the couch where she’s curled up against V.

V wakes her by smoothing her hand down over Mandy’s hair. “Aw, she ain’t that bad,” V’s saying. “Been pulling her weight, hasn’t she? Lana wasn’t too bad, when she stayed with us.”

“Yeah,” Fiona says. “I guess. Hasn’t fucked anyone even, far as I can tell.”

“Then that’s more than I could say about you,” V snorts.

Lip speaks up. “Really? That’s your standard for her? Kinda sexist.”

“Shit,” Kev says. “Look who’s college educated.”

“I’m just saying, she’s been Ian’s best friend since tenth grade, she’s loyal as fuck. Who cares who she fucks?”

Another guy - Tony, she thinks - joins in too. “Ever since Terry went back to prison? After that big bar fight? Those kids have stayed out of trouble. Their brothers are a different story, though.”

“How many are there?” Gus asks. Mandy doesn’t remember him getting here.

“Four others. Two are older than thirty. These’re the youngest.”

“That Terry, he was a bad guy, right?” Fiona says.

Couple people snort. “Was Terry Milkovich a bad guy? Maybe,” V says. “What the fuck kinda question is that?”

“I was asking Tony.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Tony answers. “His record is two feet long, all kinds of shit.”

“He hit his kids?”

“Well, yeah. Killed his wife, too, my dad was pretty sure.” His dad was a cop too, Mandy thinks. KIA, if she remembers right. “Why?”

Because Mickey opened his big mouth, but Mandy doesn’t let herself think about that. She’s sleeping. “Dunno,” Fiona says. “These kids act weird sometimes. But then they put your babies to bed.”

“They’re just damaged,” Lip says, and that stings even though she’s sleeping.

“No shit,” Kev says. “But Mickey didn’t kill me after I robbed him, and I always thought that was an integrity move.”

“When the fuck did you rob Mickey?” V demands. “Jesus, Kev, I would’ve killed you for that.”

“Long story, baby. We’re good now.”

Mickey should’ve killed him, his soft spot for Ian’s people is stupid. But Kev’s just dumb. Mandy likes him. It’s good that he isn’t dead.

“I should get to bed,” Fiona says. “I work tomorrow.”

“I don’t, I can take care of the kids,” Gus says.

“Me too,” Lip says. “I’m on break.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Both of you, thanks. V, you staying on the couch?”

“I’m not waking my babies up and leaving, so yeah. C’mon Mandy, get your ass out of here.” V pats her shoulder, and Mandy lets herself wake up for real. She doesn’t say anything to any of them. Wouldn’t know what to say.

She puts her hand over Mickey’s hair to wake him. “Wake up, bed,” she says, and kisses Ian’s hair to get him up too. Then she kind of flees the room, before she has to look at any of their faces.

Lip follows her up the steps. “Hey, Mandy wait.”

“What?”

He doesn’t know what. She turns and takes several more steps away from him. “I missed you,” he says to her back.

“That must be nice for you.”

“Okay? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing."

“Mandy.”

“Real convenient, aren’t I,” she says. “I get you into college and then I'm here whenever you feel like coming back. Fuck you. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to fuck you, and I don’t even like you anymore, so actually I don’t know what I’m even doing here.” She pushes open the door to her room and digs in the pile of laundry. She finds a sweater and puts it on, pulls on socks and a hat.

“What are you doing?” Carl asks her.

“Go to sleep.”

“Don’t leave.”

Mandy doesn’t know what to say to him. “I’m just going for a walk,” she finally lies. “Go to bed.”

“No. And it’s Thanksgiving break, I don’t have school,” he adds before she can try anything. He hops out of bed and pulls on clothes. All Mandy can try to do is get out before he’s ready.

Doesn’t work. He’s on the steps behind her, and Mickey holds her up. “Hey, where are you going?” he says.

“Not home. Stay here.”

“Fuck that, you aren’t going out there alone.”

“If you go, Ian will and he needs to go to bed,” Mandy says under her breath. “I’ll be fine, I have a knife.”

“And she’s got me,” Carl says firmly.

“Stay in the neighborhood,” Mickey says after a second. “If you aren’t back by breakfast, I’m gonna find you and kick your ass. Okay?”

“Yep.”

He kisses her forehead. She hugs him. About as sappy as they get. And she walks out then, still not quite ready to acknowledge Carl’s coming with her and definitely not ready to acknowledge Lip calling after her. She leaves. Carl comes with her. Lip doesn’t even chase her past the front door.

They walk in silence for a few blocks. She lets Carl catch up to her, but she doesn’t know what to say.

“Fiona doesn’t hate you,” Carl says first. “And you don’t have to be fucking Lip to stay. Ian says your family is a nightmare.”

Mandy doesn’t think she should trouble a fourteen year old with this shit. “I don’t need a pep talk from you,” she says.

“Okay. But you shouldn’t go.”

“You guys were doing fine without us, you’ll be fine if we do.”

“Fuck that,” Carl says.

“I didn’t want conversation,” Mandy snaps, so Carl falls silent but stays at her side. Gallaghers know how to keep their mouths shut too.

She walks in a kind of circle, close enough that they can be found if there’s an emergency or something, but nobody comes looking. Mickey’s in her corner, but he’s busy with the love of his life who’s also the love of hers, and everybody else just wants to fuck her.

“Why’d you come out with me?” she asks Carl.

“Cuz you shouldn’t go out alone. And you’re awesome.”

Mandy smiles, stomach sinking a little. “I can take care of myself.”

“Totally. But you’re sad.”

“Who raised you kids?” she says. “How the fuck did you turn out so good?”

Carl smiles at the ground. “Dunno. What did Lip do?”

“He’s just acting like he’s better than me,” Mandy says. “But I don’t need your help or anything.”

“Okay.” Still keeps walking with her. It’s been more than an hour. Snow starts falling, melting when it hits the ground. She can see her breath.

“Hey, Mandy?” he says after a while.

“Yeah?”

“What’s your dad like?”

“Violent,” she says right off the bat. “Mean, angry. Tried to kill Mickey more than once.” Knocked her up, but that’s definitely too heavy for a kid.

“Frank’s not violent much,” Carl says. “He’s just not around.”

“Could be worse,” Mandy says.

“Yeah. How come they’re all shit? I mean they’re the ones that had kids.”

Mandy wishes she had a better answer than what comes to mind. “My dad never wanted kids, he just didn’t want to use a condom more,” she says. “Maybe yours just can’t handle it. Responsibility.”

“Yeah. Probably. If I ever have kids, though, I’m gonna be a good dad. I take care of Liam. And Amy and Gemma.”

“Great start.”

He’s getting tired; he slows down. “Fiona can be a real jackass,” he says. “But Frank made her that way.”

“I know.” She puts her arm around him. “Maybe we should go back.”

“If you want to. I'm fine.” He’s sleepy and lying about it. They go back.

Mickey’s on the couch with Lip, waiting for her to come back. Both of them are bleeding; definitely got in a fight. Mick gets up when he sees her. “Y’run into any trouble?”

“No,” Mandy says. “The fuck happened here?”

“Nothing. C’mon.” He herds her and Carl up to the room, and she’s not sure how much of that has to do with him being protective versus him wanting to keep her away from Lip. She doesn’t ask.

Carl climbs back up to his bed, kicking his shoes off and burrowing under the covers. Mandy’s not stupid enough to think that he’s not listening.

“Dee,” Mickey says.

“Why’d you fight Lip?”

Mickey shrugs. “He was being a fucking idiot.”

“Fiona pissed about it?”

“No, she’s asleep. And since when do you care why I got in a fucking fight?”

She flips him off and crawls in bed with Ian. He’s so warm, she almost feels bad about keeping Mickey from him. Mickey loves to sleep with him, she knows it as a fact even though he’s never said it. She should let Mickey be with Ian. But not tonight. Tonight she’s being selfish. She passed her GED, and she’s happy.

Everyone's hungover the next morning, including Mandy. She wakes up when Ian gets up, and heads down the stairs behind him and Mickey. “When’d you get back?” Ian says to her.

“Uh, I dunno.”

“Fucking five in the morning,” Mickey says. “Because she’s a fucking idiot.”

“I’ve never been to jail,” she points out.

“Fuck you.”

Gus is downstairs, chopping up strawberries, and Mandy feels like she shouldn’t trust him for some reason. Mickey seems fine. “Hey,” he says.

“Hi. There's fruit salad, eggs, and toast.”

“Thanks,” Ian says. “V and Kev are gone?”

“Yeah. Tony too.”

She feels Gus’s eyes on her, and she’d like to ignore them but then he talks to her. “So Mandy, did you run into any trouble out last night?”

Mandy takes a piece of toast. “No,” she says. “It was fine.”

“Well, good.”

“Where’s Lip?” Ian asks.

“Right here,” Lip says on the stairs. His whole left eye is swollen and purple, and the knuckles on his hand is bloody. Mickey’s just got a split lip. He knows how to take punches better - and how to give ‘em. Lip catches her looking at him, and he gives her one of his best fake smiles. “You should see the other guy,” he says.

Mandy doesn’t laugh. What does he expect her to say to that?

Gus leaves the room, probably to be polite. Mickey pours him and Ian coffee and slides Mandy a dish of fruit. “Ey,” he says. “I can get hired by the garage, now. Ian’s set to graduate from his EMT thing in the fall.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So how about we end up somewhere with enough beds for us, for starters.”

“What, leave?”

“Yeah.”

“Ian too?”

Mickey nods, looking at her like she’s stupid. “Is that okay by you?”

“No, I just… you’ll leave your family?” she asks Ian.

Ian shrugs. “Won’t go too far. We can visit.”

“Okay,” she says. “Really?”

“Yeah really. What, you got some kinda problem with living with us?” Mickey says indignantly. “My fucking bad.”

“No, I’d just be a pretty serious third wheel.”

Mickey scoffs. She’s not sure why he’s scoffing, since he’s basically found someone that completes him and here he is, volunteering to share him all the time. “Dee, c’mon. You’re fucking family, I’m not leaving you. You grocery shopping today?”

“I could.” She’s still thrown.

“I’m coming, I need some shit. Making dinner for Ian.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Mandy demands, and Ian smiles.

“Chill out,” Mickey rolls his eyes. “You can have some too.”

“Only if you help,” Ian adds. “Milkoviches making me dinner. I like it.”

Mickey flips him off exactly in unison with Mandy. Ian laughs, and he kisses Mickey across the counter. Her brother doesn’t even try to stop him. “I’m picking up an extra shift at the shop,” Ian says. “So you’ll be on your own for the food run.”

“Y’need anything?”

“Uh, some kind of fruit on sale? Something like that. But don’t break the bank. I’ll be back around four. Leaving in ten.” Ian takes a sip of his coffee. “Besides, you aren’t a third wheel. Svetlana lived with V and Kev, and that was cool.”

“Yeah, why’d she go?” Mandy says.

“It was for the best,” Ian says, while Mickey avoids both of their eyes.

“Why, cuz of Mickey’s stupid grudge?”

Ian and Mickey exchange a pretty significant look, with Ian looking concerned and surprised, and Mickey looking as hostile as he gets with Ian. “Yeah, something like that,” Mickey says.

“It’s hard for her,” Mandy says to him. “You couldn’t let her have just this?”

“You don’t know the whole story,” Ian says before Mickey can stop him.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“She’s fine," Mickey says. “She volunteered, don’t put this on us.”

“Then she can volunteer to come back.” Mandy has a lot more to say, about how her brother - how all men, really - will throw a girl away when they’re done with her. About how much less safe that makes her feel. But Lip wanders back in the room, so she doesn’t say anything else, besides, “I’m going to talk to her.”

Ian isn’t happy with that, but he shoves a final bite in his mouth and finishes his coffee. “I’m getting dressed,” he says, and leaves the room.

Nice of him to announce it so she could prepare for the awkwardness. Mandy gets up and moves around the counter to stand by Mickey. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Lip, but that’s also kind of exactly what it is. And Lip notices. Mickey too; he shifts, and she knows that move from when Terry was around. Never thought Lip was that dangerous, but then again he fucked her and then left. Just like Dad.

“Mandy,” Lip says. “I was an ass, and I’m sorry. Okay? I really am happy for you. And you,” he adds to Mickey.

Mickey raises his coffee in a sarcastic toast.

“Okay,” Mandy says shortly. “Thanks.”

“Can we talk?” Lip says. The kind of impulsive almost romantic thing she would’ve melted for a couple years ago. She’s smarter now.

“Sure,” she says. “What.”

He looks at her for a second. “Like, private?”

“I’ve got shit to do. Now or never.” Mickey likes that; he smiles down at his coffee cup and relaxes a fraction. She can take care of herself.

Lip looks at Mickey, then back to her. “Alright. Well. It’s pretty obvious that I didn’t appreciate you. Before, like when you were doing my applications. You were sixteen, and you were being smarter than me about my future. And I was a huge dick to you about it. And I’m sorry. Alright?”

That feels good. Not good enough, though. “Okay,” she says. “Is that it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lip says after a second. “That’s it, I guess. I mean I’m gonna be around for a while. Thanksgiving break.”

“Thrilling.” She wants to tell him she’s not going to fuck him, but she’s not sure that she wouldn’t change her mind. She doesn’t want to lose her place now that she’s just found one.

Mickey speaks up for her. “Alright, shithead? Are you done?”

“Wow,” Lip says flatly. “Y’know you can tone down the hostility for a second, the world won’t explode.”

Pretty predictably, Mickey flips him off. Lip flips him off right back, and Mandy thinks again about how two of the only guys she’s ever trusted are so similar.

“What are you guys up to today?” Gus says, coming back in the room.

“The fuck do you want to know for?” Mickey says immediately.

Mandy rolls her eyes. “Grocery shopping,” she says. “That alright with you?” Barely less hostile, maybe, but at least she’s trying.

Gs puts his hands up, trying to be non-threatening. “Hey, that’s fine. Just a question. You have a ride?”

“We’re fine,” Mickey says. Then he adds, “Mandy’s got a car.”

“A car that she ran over my ex-girlfriend with,” Lip says from the table.

Mickey looks at Mandy - shit, he didn’t know that. “Shit.”

“What, you weren’t in on it?” Lip says. “The Milkoviches don’t attempt murder together?”

“Fuck you, asshole. The bitch had it coming,” Mickey says.

She did. But Mandy doesn’t want to rehash that particular bullshit today. “We’re leaving when Ian leaves,” she says. “Might want to put pants on.”

“Fuck you,” Mickey says with half a smile, but he goes.

“Is there any coffee left?” Gus asks her, since she’s closest to it.

“Yeah,” she nods. “Do you, um. Need anything?”

“Nope. Thanks.” He doesn’t make it weird.

Lip’s looking at her. “You’re not gonna ask me?”

“I’ll ask you when you do a single thing to fucking help me,” Mandy snaps, and she heads up the stairs too, to change out of pajamas.

She pops in the bedroom to grab clothes and walks in on her brother saying something quietly to Ian, holding his hand. Gentle. He’s even cool when he sees Mandy. “We going?”

“Yeah, soon.” She drops her pants and pulls on jeans, puts a hoodie on over her shirt and a hat over her hair. “I’ll be downstairs,” she says.

“I’m coming, keep your bra on,” Mickey grumbles, but he follows her down. “Where’s the cash?”

“I’ve got it.” He picks up her keys for her and tosses them at her, and she grabs them. “Thanks.”

“Yep.” Mickey heads into the living room and she follows him. Apparently he wants to say hi to Liam, which he does, leaning over the back of the couch to ruffle Liam’s hair. “Hey kiddo,” he says. “We’re going to the store, you want juice?”

“Yes!” Liam hops up to stand on the couch and high-five Mickey. “Apple.”

“Not apple, we’re sick of that one. What about the cranberry stuff?”

“Okay.” Liam bounces on each syllable. “Can I come?”

“No. We don’t have your carseat, Fiona does.” Mickey glances at Gus, next to Liam on the couch. “We’ll be back fast, you can help us put that shit away, alright?” he says to Liam.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Mickey kinda just walks away, super awkward, and catches Mandy looking at him. “The fuck do you want?”

“Fuck you. C’mon.”

Her car’s parked in front of the house, and sometimes when she walks up to it she remembers vividly when it was parked in front of Dad’s house. Sometimes it was her only way to get out. Most of the time she didn’t use it.

She got it cleaned when they moved in with Fiona. Fiona’s judgement didn’t need one more place to focus. Still feels weird to get in, new car smell and less beer cans. Mickey doesn’t seem to notice. “You got your license on you?” he asks her.

“Yeah,” she says. “But I don’t plan on getting pulled over.”

“Good thinking.”

They’re quiet after that. Always been better at that than talking. As long as she can remember, Mick’s been there. Just… been there, next to her. Rain or shine. Nobody gets to talk shit about him when she’s around; he’s the most loyal person she knows.

“You’ve got a list or something?” Mickey says when they’re close.

“Yeah,” she says. “Except for whatever you need.”

“I’ve got that, wrote it down.” Mickey pulls folded notebook paper out of his pocket to show her.

“What are you making?”

“Some spinach and pasta thing with chicken, he found it, I dunno.” He shrugs.

Silence again, as they park and get out. When they’re inside, Mandy gets a cart for them. She pushes it, and both of them add shit. Mickey’s in a good mood. He’s been happier in general, since they moved in with the Gallaghers. Even more today. Probably because of Ian.

“You really want me to move in with you two?” she asks in the bread aisle. “You don’t want to just live with Ian?”

Mickey raises his eyebrows. “Y’know, I’m starting to think you’ve got some real problem with living with us. Gonna get offended if you keep it up.”

“I want to,” she frowns. “You’re two of my, like… favorite people. But most people don’t move in with their boyfriend and sister.”

“Whoever those people are, they sound like assholes.”

She smiles despite herself. “You get my point, bonehead.”

Mickey tosses bread into the cart, and then he looks at her. “You’re my sister, I’m not leaving you alone again, and this way Ian doesn’t leave to visit you every night. We’ll have our own rooms. It’ll be great, okay?”

“Okay.”

He hesitates before saying the next thing. “I’ll miss those Gallagher kids.”

“Me too. And V’s babies. Lana’s, if she ever comes back. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Fuck off.” Again, something uncomfortable in his voice she can’t put her finger on. “She left cuz she wanted to, that wasn’t me.”

“Whatever. Still a dick move.”

“Yeah, well I’m a dick, so.”

Mandy runs into him with the cart, and he flips her off, both fingers. “Where would we live?” she asks.

“We’re looking. Depends where Ian gets hired, how much money we’ll have. You too, whatever you end up doing.” He shrugs. “No big deal.”

“No big deal,” she echoes him, just to annoy him, and they finish shopping together pretty quietly.

“Ey, I’m walking over to Ian’s,” he says. “I’ll see you later.”

“Sure. Wait,” she says, and Mickey turns around to look at her while walking backwards, slower. “Why you making Ian dinner, Thanksgiving is in like, two days.”

“He hates Thanksgiving, thought you knew. Why’re you getting all this shit?”

“So Fiona doesn’t throw a fit.”

“Oh. Good idea.” He turns back around. “Bye.”

Ian hates Thanksgiving cuz his mom tried to kill herself. He told her, it slipped her mind. She wonders if Mickey knows the why.

She manages to get all the bags inside in one trip, dumping them on the kitchen table and then stripping off her coat. She’s looking through one of the bags when Svetlana bursts inside. Svetlana, who’s supposed to be somewhere else. Holding Yevgeny, and looking pissed. “Bad news,” she says.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“On the run. One of Terry’s friends was looking for me. Threatened Veronica and children. I left. Took care of it. I’m back now. Hopefully for longer.”

Mandy frowns. “Ian said he asked you to leave.”

“Sure,” Lana shrugs. “He asked. Is not why I went. Is Fiona here? I have thing to tell her.”

“No. Y’know, I’m going to say something to Mickey,” Mandy says. “He’s being stupid about this, V and Kev love having you over. He doesn’t get to treat you like this just because he knocked you up.”

Svetlana looks at her. “Do you not know?”

“What, what don’t I know?” she frowns.

“What do you think happened? How Yev was conceived.”

“You were his cover fuck, it went too far. I mean, right?”

“No. We were not fucking,” Lana says, looking at the baby in her arms. “Your father forced him, after catching him with Ian. I met him then. That was the only time.”

Mandy feels like she’s been punched in the chest. Can’t breathe. “What?”

“I had tests done, this is his child. He will help. But we had no relationship.”

“Dad… he caught Ian and Mickey?”

“Yes. Thought he solved problem with me.”

“It’s not a fucking problem, they’re just gay.” Mandy feels so faint.

Svetlana looks at her again, longer and hard. “Sit,” she says. “Hold Yevgeny.” As soon as Mandy’s sitting, she plops the baby in her lap and sets out unloading the groceries. “I was not his cover,” she says, as if that isn’t obvious.

“When, when did this happen?” Mandy says when she thinks of it.

“Summer before we married.”

“What day?”

“I don’t remember. Your father beat him badly, you might’ve seen.”

Shit, shit. She did. When Terry pistol whipped Mick in the face, it had to be then. Fuck, how did she miss that. Fuck.

Gus takes the baby from her; she doesn’t remember him coming in. “Hey, are you alright?” he says. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“She might,” Svetlana says. “Here, give her water.”

Mandy takes a sip to make them happy, but she doesn’t feel any better and she won’t say anything with Gus in the room. She can’t breathe.

When Gus leaves Lana says, “I did not mean to do this.”

“It’s fine,” Mandy says. “Not your fault.”

“Well. In a way.” Lana finishes putting the groceries away and comes to sit by her again. “You did not know.”

“No, I pretty clearly didn’t fucking know.” Mandy runs her hands over her face and kinda groans. “Fuck!”

“You’re mad?”

“No, I’m not mad,” Mandy says. “I’m… fuck. I’m not mad at you.”

Lana nods. “Your father is piece of shit.”

“Yeah. Fuck. So you’re back for good?”

“Yes. Kev is very pleased. V too.” She smiles as much as she ever does. “I am coming over with them for Thanksgiving. I will see you then.”

She takes Yev. Mandy is glad, because she’s finding it really hard to look at her nephew right now. Plus, now she can retreat to her room to deal by herself. Doesn’t do a good job of that even alone, though. Can’t stop thinking about her brother, caught by her father and being - fuck, being beaten to within an inch of his life. He was in bad shape. Really bad. And then Ian left, suddenly, for the Army. That had to be related. Fuck.

People come home, she hears the house getting gradually louder, but she doesn’t leave the corner of the bed she’s in. She can’t think. She feels sick.

Mickey and Ian get home eventually. Somebody probably tells them where she is. At any rate, they get up to her and Mickey immediately knows something’s wrong, just by looking at her probably. Fuck.

“Mandy, what the fuck happened,” Mickey says in the door, but he doesn’t come any closer.

“Lana’s back," she says.

“Okay, and? She do something to you?”

“No. But apparently she did something to you.”

Mickey sighs. “What are you doing, Dee? Go downstairs, Gus made hamburgers.”

“I don’t give a fuck about hamburgers.”

He frowns now. “Mandy, really. What the fuck is going on with you.”

She looks him in the eye. “Dad caught you, and you didn’t fucking tell me?”

She watches realization dawn on him. Looks a lot like fear and horror. “Jesus, Lana told you?” he says, and he comes to sit down on the bed wth her. “Fuck.”

“How much do you not tell me, Mick?” she says flatly. “Really.”

“I didn’t want you to… look, you couldn’t do shit.”

“I could kill Dad.”

“No, you couldn’t,” Mickey says. “Don’t talk like that. This is why I didn’t tell you. We don’t talk about this shit, y’know?”

Mandy is still pissed, but he’s got a point. She didn’t tell him when she found out she was pregnant, she talked to Ian. Can’t blame him for doing the same thing. “So he actually tried to kill you.”

Mickey kind of shakes his head, then he shrugs. “Just for a second. Before he thought of bringing her over.”

“Is that why Ian left for the army?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he left cuz of all that. That bipolar thing was starting up too.”

“Shit. Fuck, I could’ve helped you.”

Mickey shrugs. “Nah, not really. I mean, it was over before you got home.”

“Over? Is that what you call being in bed for two weeks with the worst concussion of your life? I covered for you.”

“Nobody asked you to do that.”

“Nobody had to.”

He bites his lip. Nervous habit; he’s had it since he was three. She knows that, but not that he was gay and their dad caught him and tried to kill him. Not until after everyone else. Mick puts his arm around her then, and he’s not comfortable with it. “I was gonna tell you eventually,” he says. “Once I figured out what the fuck to say.”

Sounds true. Probably is. “Yeah? When the fuck would that be, you never know what to say.” She pushes his arm off. “Mick, I wouldn’t have… if I knew. Y’know? I could’ve…”

“You’re fine,” he says. “You did just fine. Will you come eat, now, please? Carl’s worried. Debs too. Say you’ve been up here for hours. Even Lip’s fucking concerned.”

Mandy doesn’t know how to answer to that. “I’ll eat,” she says. “But.”

“I really didn’t think it was a big deal,” he says. “I mean how many times has he tried to kill one of us?”

“Okay, fine. You’re off the hook for now,” Mandy says reluctantly. “Fuck you.”

“I told him you wanted medium rare,” Mickey answers.

Fuck him. She hops on his back and lets him carry her downstairs, and she hopes he can’t tell it’s just because she wants to hug him. Because she really wants to hug him. Terry tried to kill him and made him get married, and Mickey handled it all by himself.

Gus looks at her sharply when they get downstairs. “Hey, Mandy,” he says over the rest of the room. “Y’doing alright?”

“Yep,” she says shortly. Mickey elbows her. “Thanks,” she adds. “For dinner.”

“Sure.”

Fiona’s there, listening. She doesn’t toss out any suspicious looks tonight, not that Mandy cares. She’s ready to kill anyone who looks at Mickey wrong, so this is working out for the best probably. Whatever, though. Dinner is good, and Gus is nice. He makes the whole room feel safer, just his vibe. Except now Mandy can’t think of much else besides how unsafe the entire world has been for her and her brother.

Carl and Debbie are both looking at her. “Did someone die?” Carl asks.

“No. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Really don’t have to, or you just don’t want to tell us, don’t have to,” Debbie says, sounding resigned.

“Really don’t have to,” Mandy says. “Misunderstanding.” The kids still look suspicious. “C’mon, have I ever lied to you?”

“No,” Debbie says after a second, and she looks at Carl. “She hasn’t.”

“Weird,” Carl says under his breath.

“Do you need help with whatever it is?” Debbie asks.

“No,” Mandy says, smiling a little bit. “Thanks, though. Just my shithead brother not telling me stuff.”

Mick catches that last part. “Fuck you,” he says, and takes one of her tater tots. She slaps his hand away, not quick enough.

Ian takes her plate after dinner, after leaning down to hug her from behind. “Wasn’t my shit to tell,” he says. “You mad?”

“No. Not mad.” She holds him tight, though, because he almost died too. She almost lost them both and she didn’t even know.

“Good. We’ll talk,” he promises.

It’s Thanksgiving morning. Everyone else is asleep, but Ian’s up early running, and Mickey up with him. Mandy stays in bed at first, both of them stepping over her, but she can’t get back to sleep so she yawns and pulls herself to her feet.

Mickey’s in the kitchen. “Ey,” he says when he sees her. “What’s up.”

“Nothing. Coffee?”

“It’s happening,” he says, pointing at the coffee maker. “Sit tight.”

She sits on the other side of the counter and watches him. Her brother is making pancakes, looks like, and there’s strawberries out too. “Y’know the big meal is tonight and you made him dinner last night too, right?” she says.

“Yeah, I‘m aware,” he says sharply. “We’re doing breakfast too. Ian probably won’t want to eat much at dinner.”

“Right. His mom.”

Mickey nods after a second of looking up at her. “He told you about that.”

“Yep. Sometimes I think we had it easier,” she says impulsively, even though it’s crazy. But Mickey nods.

“Yeah, at least we knew how to feel if he bit it.”

“Right,” she says. “So you skipping dinner?”

“Nah, it’s a family thing. Dunno how any of them are going to eat.”

Good point. “Last night was good, at least,” she says. “Seemed happy.”

“Yeah, that lithium shit works for him.” Mickey looks up at her. “Worked for his mom too, but she’d never take it long enough.”

It’s almost easier that Monica’s gone without a trace. Mandy wouldn’t know what to do with a mom. Barely knows what to do with Fiona. “Well. Good thing Ian knows better than that. I’d kick his ass.”

“Me first,” Mickey mumbles. Coffee beeps, and Mickey gets them both get a mug. Then when Gus appears on the stairs, Mick pulls out a third. “Coffee?” he says to Gus, kinda gruffly.

“Sure, thanks. So Thanksgiving breakfast. Is that a Gallagher thing or a Milkovich thing?” Gus says, putting milk in his coffee.

“Neither,” Mandy says, and Mickey frowns.

“Well, an Ian Gallagher thing.” Mickey glances at Gus then, and Mandy can see he’s trying to guess how much the guy knows. Probably not much. Fiona isn’t exactly a talkative person. Hood girls don’t dish on their families. “Ain’t exactly their favorite holiday,” is all Mickey decides to say.

“Oh.” Gus takes a sip of his coffee. Mandy takes a deep pull of hers too. “You guys know a lot about them.”

“Yep,” Mandy says. She makes eye contact with her brother across the counter, and he looks down right away. Nobody’s spilling Gallagher secrets. So Gus goes to sit at the table and read something on his phone.

Mickey’s almost finished making pancakes when Ian gets back. He’s so much better now. Fun without going too far, all his best parts. And there are a lot of good parts about him. “Hey guys, thanks,” he says when he gets back. He kisses her on the cheek, Mick on the lips, and takes some coffee. “The sunrise is always gorgeous on Thanksgiving.”

“Wouldn't know,” Mickey says shortly. Feels awkward, Mandy thinks. “Here. First pieces are for you.” 

“You’re spoiling me,” Ian grins, sitting next to Mandy at the counter.

Lip comes downstairs next, sits next to Mandy without asking if she’s cool with it. Pisses her off. But Mickey gives him a sharp look, and says, “The fuck do you want?” So she feels a little better.

“Good morning,” Lip says pointedly. “So breakfast?”

“Not for you,” Mandy says.

Ian gives Mickey a look, and Mickey sighs. “Maybe for you,” he says. “If there’s any left.”

“Y’know Thanksgiving’s at dinner, right?” Lip says. “Even you Milkoviches have to know that.”

“Yeah well, I also know your mom tried to kill herself where I’m fucking standing during dinner, so he’s not gonna be too hungry,” Mickey snaps back.

Dead silence. Lip inhales loudly then, and says. “Not pulling any punches.”

“You first.”

Lip looks at Mandy. “You know about this too?”

“I’m Ian’s best friend,” Mandy says. “What do you think?”

“I think my little brother has a big fucking mouth,” Lip says under his breath. “Monica isn’t big enough to ruin a national holiday,” he adds. And Mandy knows the guy who used to be her boyfriend well enough to know that’s not a statement of fact, it’s a hope.

There is food left over, and they let Lip have it. His mom died too. And Carl, when he comes down. Mandy and Lip let him steal off their plates and don’t talk about it.

“Teach me how to make pancakes,” Carl says, half question and statement.

“Ask Mick,” Mandy says. “He’s the chef.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mickey says. “It ain’t hard, you’ll be fine.”

Carl grins, and leans against Mandy. “We should do this every time,” he says. “It’s nicer.” And Mandy agrees.

Fiona’s next down, yawning. She hesitates on the steps, for just a second. Shorter than before, at least. “Thanksgiving breakfast?” she says.

“Milkovich thing,” Lip lies, and none of them correct him. “You need to start that turkey if you’re gonna get it done in time, sis.”

“Alright, everyone’s an expert.” Fiona pours herself some coffee and heads back behind them to Gus. Mandy tries not to listen to them.

“Parade’s on,” Carl says. “Can we watch it?”

“Sure,” Ian hops up a little too fast. Or maybe it’s not too fast, maybe she looks at everything he does too closely. Who even fucking knows, man. She looks away, and Lip’s been watching her, she catches him. She flips him off.

“Classy,” he says.

“Is that all you think about?” she says, but she’s not mad. She’s just done. So she sits by herself in the chair. The boys sit on the couch, Ian closest to her, and Lip keeps looking at her but she doesn’t look back. Fuck him.

They get dressed up after lunch time, which Mandy doesn’t understand at all but the Gallaghers say it’s tradition. They get looking all nice, and then they go downstairs to try and cook a feast in a shitty kitchen. Close quarters. It’s kinda awkward. Hard to avoid Lip when he’s next to her cutting carrots. But the rest of her family is her buffer, and Lip doesn’t stir up any shit.

The Gallaghers act like they’re hungry, but none of them eat much. Gus eats, and Mickey. Kev and V and their kids, Svetlana and Yev don't have any problem.Mandy spends a lot of time talking to Carl and Debbie about absolutely nothing, trying to trick them into eating when they aren’t paying attention. It works alright. Then she heads out back for a smoke on the steps. Her head hurts, and there’s sixty people in the kitchen without her adding on.

She’s barely lit the cigarette when the back door opens and Lip follows her out. Silently, he sits next to her on the steps, one down. He doesn’t ask for anything and she doesn’t want to share. She can see the bruise on his cheek from fighting Mickey.

“Jesus, Mandy,” he finally says. “What the fuck happened to us.”

“I grew up,” she says.

“Yeah, you did. Faster than me. I’ve been an ass to you. But the other night, when I said I missed you. I really meant that.”

Mandy feels anger flare in her stomach again, but she doesn’t want to be mad right now. “Okay,” she says. “And what the hell’s that worth? You’re gone in four days anyways.” He’s still going to college, coming back when he wants and leaving again.

“Yeah,” he says. “But then I’m coming back in a few weeks for Christmas.”

“And you’re leaving again after. There’s no point.”

Lip turns and looks at her. “Really? Really. We were good as friends. You don’t want to try that again?”

She takes her time answering. Takes a nice long drag and lets out the curls of smoke. “Fine,” she finally says. “But you can’t keep giving me and Mick shit about our family. And you can’t keep talking down to me.”

“Okay.”

As soon as she thinks of it, she adds something. “And you’re not going to convince me to fuck you again.”

“Okay. Don’t really have the time for that anyway. Up to my neck in homework. Not that time is the only… factor,” he says awkwardly, and she likes that. She likes him trying to say the right thing, caring about it. So she hands him the cigarette and tells herself not to forget what she’s mad about.

Lip hands it back after a second, and he leans closer to her. “You did a good thing,” he says. “With the kids at dinner.”

“Whatever.”

“What, you don’t want me to say anything nice to you?”

“Maybe I don’t. Until I know you’ve stopped acting like a jackass. What about that?” she challenges him, and Lip huffs out half a laugh.

“Alright. Fair enough. But I have stopped.”

“Y’got a girlfriend still?”

“No. Toldja, too much homework. Getting harder every year.”

“Wouldn’t know,” she snaps back.

Lip shakes his head. “No, not like that. I was just. Telling you.”

She doesn’t know if she wants him to tell her stuff, because since when did it become her job to listen to everything he says when she doesn’t get shit back? But on the other hand, she loves him. And she’ll always love him.

“You were there? When it happened, with your mom,” she says.

“Nope. Nope I was kicked out. Fiona and I were fighting.” He looks away from her. “Jimmy had to deal with it.”

"Fuck that guy."

That makes him laugh again. “Yeah, he was a piece of work.”

“Everybody else was here, though?”

“Yeah, why?”

She shrugs. “Ian doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Not surprising. He was the one that found her. And he’s been so scared he’s gonna be her…”

“Are you?”

“No, I’m scared I’m gonna marry her,” Lip says flippantly. But he’s quiet after that, and she thinks maybe he means it. “If I’m like anyone, it’s Frank. But that’s… just. I’m not like him, though.”

He fucked her and left her. He drank his ass off and turned into a huge dick. Ran away from his family cuz he wanted too. What part of that doesn’t sound like Frank? “I hope not,” she says. “I hate Frank.”

“Me too.” She stands up, and he stands with her. The stairs make her a little taller. He has to look up at her. “I meant it,” he says again. “When I said I missed you.”

“I know,” she gives in this time. “But act like it.”

Lip hugs her, but only after she sees his open arms and nods. And then he hugs her gently, his head on her shoulder. After a second, she leans on him too. She forgot how nice this was. Of course he has to ruin it. “Tell Mickey to chill out,” he says.

“I won’t,” she retorts. “How about you act cooler to him first?”

Lip smiles; she can feel it somehow. “I’ll think about it.”

When they finally let go, he sticks close, like he always did. Hand on her back when they walk up the steps and inside. And Mandy lets herself remember how safe she always felt around him. When he wasn’t making her feel like shit.

Everybody drinks; beer and wine with dinner, shots after with dessert. The adults get talking about times from their past, so the rest of them make their escape upstairs for a card game. Apples to apples. Mandy sits between Lip and Deb, and watches as Carl ends up winning the first three cards.

He grins on the fourth while they all groan. “I’m hilarious,” he says.

“You got lucky with all these cards,” Mickey grumbles, taking another shot. “I want a reshuffle.”

“Deb can shuffle better than a Las Vegas dealer,” Lip says. “Show ‘em.”

Debbie is really, really strangely good. She giggles as she shuffles cards in a couple different ways, and then she laughs harder with everyone else when Carl still wins the next one.

“Alright,” Ian sighs. “At least it’s his turn, so he can’t win this one.”

Mickey wins, and that breaks Carl’s streak. The losers start taking shots. Debbie’s the first to tap out after that, getting tired and cranky. Carl gets giggly, leaning against Mickey because he stops being able to hold himself up.

Eventually, they give up the game. Ian, who stopped after two drinks because it interferes weird with his meds, just smiles at everybody. “I love you,” he says to Mandy.

“Gross,” Carl giggles.

“It’s not gross, she’s my best friend.”

“Still gross,” Lip says with a grin.

“Maybe this is why I’m in a successful relationship and you’re alone,” Ian retorts.

There’s kind of a collective eye-widening, and Lip’s quiet at first. Mickey speaks up. “Alright, you’re drunk,” he says. “Really lost any tolerance you had, huh.”

“You’re stupid,” Ian says.

Mickey just rolls his eyes. “Get in bed. This is done.”

Mandy looks at Lip then, when her brother is getting Ian in bed. He’s fine, he’s looking at his cards, but she sees his jaw clench and she knows what that means. He’s not happy. Carl sees it too; he stops smiling for the first time in like an hour.

Lip puts his cards down, then, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Before he lights one, he takes a long pull from the bottle of vodka. “Wow,” he finally says under his breath. “Ian can ruin a holiday too.”

Mandy looks at Micky immediately, and Mickey’s pissed. She knows the look in his eyes, and she’s nervous. No fight tonight, please, she wants to beg, but he’s avoiding her eyes. Ian doesn’t hear, apparently, and that’s good at least. And once Mickey has sat back down, he looks at Lip and says, “You feel better, sayin’ that?”

Lip looks at him for a second before looking away. “Don’t fucking lecture me,” he says. “You don’t know shit.”

“I know shit about Ian,” Mickey counters. “I’ve lived here more than you, these last couple of years. Don’t do that. Cuz Mandy doesn’t want me to kick your ass, so you’ve gotta play nice.”

Lip doesn’t get a chance to say anything before Svetlana knocks on the doorjamb. “What are you doing?” she asks.

“Playing a game,” Mandy says. She glances at Mickey, who is making a really big deal about how casual he is. “You want to play?”

“How do you play?” Lana asks as she comes in.

“The green cards are adjectives, and the red cards are things, names of things. So you try to put down a funny red card for a green one. And if the judge thinks its funniest, you win.”

Svetlana picks up a couple cards and examines them. “I cannot do this,” she determines. “My English is not good enough.”

“You could try,” Carl says.

“Nah, the game’s over anyways,” Lip says, and he gets up to crack the window so the smoke’s let out.

Lana’s looking through the cards. “What is an adjective?” she says.

“Word that describes shit,” Mickey says. He sits next to Lip, against the bed, and lights up too. “Blue,” he says. “Heavy. Short. Whatever.”

“What are smaller words on the card?”

“Other words that mean the same thing,” Mandy says. “Like hints.”

Lana nods, reading several more. “Terrible game,” she says. “How is this fun.”

“Cuz you don’t do it literally,” Lip says, settling back down on the ground. He’s closer to Mandy now. “You try and make it funny. Or sarcastic, or something.”

“I see.”

After some silence, Mickey asks, “So how’s V and Kev? Is that going well?”

“It is good,” Lana answers decisively. “Yes. We are married. Raising our family.”

“You picked Wendy’s,” Mickey says outta nowhere, which sounds like nonsense but Lana smiles.

“I did,” she says. “And you got diploma, yes? Both.”

“Yep.” Mickey nods shortly. “Both of us.”

He’s being civil, but he’s not over what happened. Mandy can tell, now that she knows. And she loves her brother, more than she loves just about anybody, but she knows he can be just as violent as any other man. So she feels protective, but not of him. Of Lana, who’s younger than her and married with a kid.

Lip’s watching her, heavy-lidded eyes barely open. He can handle booze, but he’s had a shit ton. He’s drunk. “Dee,” he says. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she says. “You don’t do Thanksgiving in Russia, do you.”

“Correct,” Lana agrees. “There is a harvest festival.”

“Mom mixed that with this,” Mickey says. “‘Member? Roady Boz-he.”

“Rody Bozhe, na vsiakoho doliu, bidnoho-bahatoho, vdovytsi i syroty,” Lana rattles off.

“Right. Asking God to bless the earth and provide for everybody.”

Mandy shakes her head. “I don’t remember.”

“You were little,” Mickey shrugs it off.

She only remembers small things about their mother. How she said their names, for one, but none of the language.

“The fuck is all this,” Lip sighs. “So you guys are fuckin’ Russian now?”

“Cool,” Carl pipes up from where he’s flopped on the ground.

“Ukrainian,” Mick corrects him. “Yeah. Dad likes whores from his neck of the woods. Mom was one of ‘em. Or, liked. I guess.”

“That’s fucked up,” Lip says.

“I know.”

Depressing, kinda, that this might be them playing nice. Both of them use getting pissy as a way to keep people away, both don’t take it very well from anybody else. It makes her feel kinda doomed about them, but nothing’s been easy for her. Serves to reason this ain’t either.

Lana’s suspicious of Lip. Good. Lip doesn’t deserve to be trusted right away, by anybody. Mandy wishes she trusted him less.

Carl pipes up. “Ukraine is cool.”

Mandy rolls her eyes. “Y’wanna get in bed, Carl?”

“No. We’re having fun.”

Mickey smiles at the kid. “Gallaghers can’t hold their liquor.”

“Wow,” Lip says flatly. But it stops at that. And then he reaches over for Mandy’s hand, just to hold it, rubs over the back with his thumb. It’s quiet, and good. She feels almost safe. “Mick,” Lip finally says. “Y’wanna smoke a joint?”

“Sure,” her brother says. “If you’re offering.”

“I’ve got rich kid weed,” Lip says, pulling his bag over to him and opening it. “Plenty to share, if you’re interested,” he says looking at Mandy and Lana.

“I am,” Carl says.

“Too fucking bad, kiddo.”

At any rate, that’s how they all end up on the floor, passing a couple joints back and forth. Carl falls asleep there, between Lip and Mickey, and Lana gets even quieter. The room gets warm and close, and all Mandy can hear is her breathing, Lip’s next to her.

“You know where your mom is?” Mandy asks eventually.

“No,” Lip says. “Probably won’t see her until Carl’s in college.”

“She won’t kill herself?” Not a good question to ask. Too late.

“No,” Lip repeats. “She’s too selfish.”

“Sorry,” Mandy ends up saying. “That’s gotta be tough.”

“Nah. You get used to it.” He’s lying, though. She knows him. So she reaches over and takes his hand. And they fall asleep there.

Doesn’t feel like they’ve slept for long when she feels Lip yank his hand free and get up. And there’s yelling, so Mandy gets up. Mickey too. Instinct.

They follow Lip down the front stairs. He takes them two at a time, because he recognizes the voice quicker than them. It’s Frank, arguing with Fiona, and even Mandy understands no one fucks with Fiona.

“I’m going to sleep in my own bed,” Frank finishes, and turns to go upstairs.

Lip gets directly in his way. “Like fuck you are,” he says calmly. Or fake calmly, he rubs his nose and that’s always been a tell.

“Get out of my way, son,” Frank mumbles. He’s drunk. “It’s Thanksgiving.”

“No it’s not,” Lip says, but Frank’s pushing against him already so Mickey gets up next to Lip and folds his arms.

“Hey,” he says. “Maybe don’t push your luck.”

“What, now I’m being threatened by a Milkovich? In my own home?”

“It’s not yours,” Fiona shouts. She looks like shit, probably been up the whole night then woke up early by this shit. “I tried, Dad, you know I tried. And the kids gave you a second chance, and a third, and a twentieth. But when I said you’re out, I meant it.”

“We’ll talk after my nap,” Frank says.

Lip and Mick don’t let him by. Mandy stays watching a few steps up on the stairs, cursing herself for flinching when Frank tries to force his way past the boys. Then, abruptly, Frank elbows Lip in the face and tries to use that to get past. Doesn’t work, of course.

Mickey snorts. “Okay, sure.” And he head butts Frank hard as he can.

Frank doesn’t stop. He gets wily, tries cheap shots and moving quick, but Mickey’s fought their dad, twice Frank’s size with no reservations about killing his kids. He can handle Lip’s dad, especially with Lip’s help. They get Frank on the ground and keep him there. “Don’t fucking get up unless you’re leaving,” Mickey says, and Frank doesn’t listen.

“This is a travesty,” Frank complains.

“No it’s not,” Mickey rolls his eyes. “You’re a fucking joke. Should I throw him out?”

“Yeah,” Fiona says after a second. “Get him out of here.”

Mandy puts her hand on Lip’s shoulder then, while Mick hauls Frank out. “Broken?” she asks.

“Nah, just bloody.”

She puts her hand under his chin to tilt it up for a better look, and he lets her, pretending to be annoyed. It’s not broken, he’s right. Frank got him in the eye, too, and in the jaw. Scratched his arm. She feels sick, not just cuz of how much she drank.

Fiona comes over to do to check on him too, but Lip doesn’t want it. “What are you gonna do when I’m gone, or if Mickey’s not here?” he says, wiping the blood from his lip on his knuckle. “You have to stop him. It’s not fun, Fiona.”

“I know,” Fiona begins, and doesn’t really finish.

Lip shakes his head. “Figure it out,” he finally says. “Because I can’t do this again.” And he turns around to head back up the stairs. Mandy goes too, and she doesn’t have to ask where they’re going. She leads him to the bathroom and tears off toilet paper for his nose. Lip takes it without saying anything.

“Gotcha good,” Mandy finally says.

“Yeah, Frank’s like a fucking savant of… fucking up his kids. So.”

“Tilt your head back, it’ll never stop bleeding.”

“I know,” he sighs, obeying. “Your brother’s gonna be fine?”

“Yeah. Cotton balls?”

He gets them, and she gets the hydrogen peroxide for his lip. It’s like deja vu, she’s done this a dozen times. In this house, even. “You scared of my dad?” he says conversationally.

“Nah.”

“Why, cuz yours-“

“Lip,” she says. “What’s your point?”

“What do you mean?” he starts to shrug it off.

“Don’t. You know. Don’t start this again.”

Lip takes cotton balls from her with an annoyed look and swabs one inside his mouth. It comes out pretty deep red. “So you’re going to call me out now,” he finally says. “That’s how it’s gonna be?”

“Is that a fucking problem?” she begins, but Lip’s already shaking his head.

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’m just saying."

“Don't take your shit out on me,” she says, half under her breath. As much as she loves him, she still doesn’t know what he’ll do.

He hugs her. After a second, Mandy wraps her arms around him in return.

“I’ll do what I can,” Lip answers, a little faint. He kisses her shoulder. And when he lets go, he shuts the toilet and sits on it heavily. “Nothing like a family holiday,” he says, and lets her tilt his head back for real, until his nose dries up and the flush in his cheeks has faded.

Mickey comes in a little after that, spits blood into the sink and kinda cracks his jaw. “He’s a slippery fucker,” he says, and rinses out his mouth. “He gonna be back?”

“Probably not. He likes to pout.”

“Huh. And Fiona just lets him,” Mickey says. Mandy glares at him, and he dramatically raises his eyebrows. “Alright, got it. Shit. But maybe Ian and me shouldn’t go too far.”

“What, you’re moving out?” Lip says.

“Yeah, Mandy too. We’re getting a house.”

“Huh.” Lip looks at Mandy. “Kinda awkward third wheel scenario.”

“Tell me about it,” she says.

She expects more shit, but Lip shrugs. “Maybe I’ll stop by.”

“Maybe we see how Christmas goes first, buddy,” Mickey snorts, and nudges both of them on his way out.

Lip leaves Sunday night, and Mandy’s actually sorry to see him go. He’s been cool. And he pulls her aside, actually, before he goes. “Gotcha something,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep.” He hands her a cell phone.

Mandy narrows her eyes at him. “I have a phone.”

“I know.”

"Then what's this?"

“When it rings, sound professional and pretend you know everything, alright?”

“Why, will it be you?” she says sarcastically.

He shakes his head.

“So I’m just gonna have to wait for you to decide to tell me?”

Lip was planning on just that, she thinks, but she sees him change his mind. “Okay. Look. I know you’re looking for jobs. I applied to fifteen for you. They’ll call this phone.”

Mandy is breathless. “What? What do you mean, what kind of jobs?”

“Jobs where you aren’t on your feet the whole time, making decent money. Behind a desk or something.” He’s watching her face for her reaction, gauging it carefully, and Mandy doesn’t know what to give him.

“Why’d you do that?” she says.

“Because you applied for me-“

“I know, asshole. I mean why.”

Lip grins. “Because. I don’t like owing people,” he says, so flippant it’s clear it’s a joke. But not a funny one, it’s one of Lip’s sharp ones. One he tells to keep from being honest. 

“You still owe me,” she says.

“Yeah. But less.” He hugs her, one arm around her shoulders, and kisses her cheek. “Now make a shitload of money and get a house with the guys so I can visit. I want my own room.”

“We can discuss it. When are you leaving?”

“Around six, so I get back there before midnight.”

She nods, awkward suddenly, and Lip’s eyes flick over every part of her face, taking it in. “Mandy,” he says.

“What?”

“I’m gonna pay you back. Completely. Make everything up.”

“That’s a pretty big commitment,” is all she can think to say.

He shrugs. “Guess it’s my turn, then.”

When he leaves for real, he hugs her last. “You’re a good person,” he says quietly. “Real smart. Tell me what you want, and we’ll make it happen.”

“Shut up,” she says, because she can’t believe any promises made at the last minute, right before he’s leaving. But she wants to. So she adds, “Drive safe.”

Lip rolls his eyes on the way out the door.

She’s smoking when Carl tries to sneak in the back door. Doesn’t work. When he sees her he tries to turn around before she sees him back. Also doesn’t work.

“Carl?” she says.

“It’s fine.”

“Carl,” she repeats, and Carl’s a good one. He has sisters, he listens to girls. He turns back, and she sees the amount of blood on his face and shirt and immediately puts out her cigarette. “Fucking hell. Anything broken?”

“No.” He’s hobbling up the steps, though, and again, so much fucking blood that even Mandy feels kind of faint. “Is Fiona home?”

“No. No one.” She’s already pulling her phone out. “Lana, is V home?” she says when Svetlana picks up.

“She is not. What’s wrong?”

“Not sure. Might need medical advice.” Mandy pulls the phone away from her mouth to ask Carl, “Where’s the blood coming from?”

Carl’s just shaking. “I’m on my way,” Lana says, and hangs up.

Mandy gets him inside, and then she hugs him tightly. “Carl,” she says. “Come on. Tell me what happened, c’mon.”

“Dad,” he says.

Her heart stops. How many fucking times is she going to hear that from boys she cares about. “Take off your coat, where are you bleeding from?”

He obeys but doesn’t answer. She sees for herself that he’s bleeding from the side of his head, pretty heavily. Thank fuck he cut his hair a couple weeks ago so she can see how bad it is. “Concussion?” she says.

“Maybe.” He wobbles a little, and Mandy gets a clean dishrag and presses it to his cut. There’s tears in his eyes next time she looks, and he hangs onto her tightly, not just to stay up.

“What did Frank do?” she’s asking when Lana comes in. “Wait, where’s Yev,” she says then, changing the subject.

“With Kev and twins. What happened?”

Mandy shakes her head. “I want to get him in the bathtub, can you help?”

“Yes.” Lana’s all business. She helps efficiently, and then gets new clothes for him while Mandy sprays down Carl’s face.

“Hold this,” Mandy tells Carl, and he keeps the rag against his head while she gets the blood off him. He’s a teenager, almost grown, but he’s just a kid too.

They get the bloody clothes off him and put him in new ones, dry ones. Carl’s basically catatonic. He probably has a concussion.

“How long ago?” Lana asks.

“Dunno,” he answers.

“Where?”

“Alibi Room. Outside. Then I walked home.”

Maybe a ten minute walk at most. Not bad. Lana looks at Mandy, sternness fading into a bit of relief. “How’d he do this?” Mandy asks.

“Pushed me,” Carl says, lips barely moving. “Curb.”

Lana empties the bottle of hydrogen peroxide over his head, wound fizzing into the towel for several minutes. “Is deep or is it just bleeding much?” she asks then, when Mandy checks on it.

“Not deep,” Mandy says. “He’ll be okay.”

Svetlana leaves soon after that, and Mandy walks her to the door. “Thanks,” she says. “Didn’t want to fuck up.”

“Yes, this I understand. Call again if you need.” Lana looks as sympathetic as she ever has, but just for a moment. Then she leaves.

Mandy heads back upstairs with a glass of water, and gets him aspirin from the bathroom too. Carl’s curled up on himself in Ian’s bed, legs pulled up to his chest. “Hey,” she says. “Here.”

He uncurls just far enough to take it, and she watches him closely. His hands are still shaking. She’s never seen that from him. So she sits next to him on the bed, a little bit away, and tries to remember the script for this.

“So what’d he do this time?” she finally says.

“Pushed, uh. Pushed me down, hit my head on the curb.”

“Why’d he do that?”

“I dunno, I just… I asked him about some stuff, and then I said Fiona said he couldn’t be here for Christmas.”

“And he pushed you.”

She just gets half a nod. There’s a sense of sickness seeping into the air of the room from both of them. She knows what this feels like, the culpability that always pushes its way into your head when shit like this happens, and she hopes this is Carl’s first time with it.

“Well that wasn’t your fault,” she begins, and then he leans over. He leans against her, and Mandy puts her arm around him. “It wasn’t,” she repeats quieter, and he doesn’t say anything. “Never is, even for Mickey. Even when he was really asking for it.”

“What would he do?” Carl asks after a second.

“Mick? He’d just. Y’know, he can be a real shit. On purpose most of the time. Learned to piss people off by making fun of them or whatever. Like Lip does.”

Carl doesn’t give much of an answer. He stays against her side, and she tries not to think too much. How fucked up this is, and how she’s got the exact right knowledge to make it a little better.

Ian’s first home. He comes upstairs when she calls him, and then when he sees Carl he joins them in bed on Carl’s other side. Mandy tells him what happened, and Ian hugs his brother as tightly as he can. And when he lets go, he’s pissed. “Frank’s bullshit,” he says. “He’s not our family.”

“No,” Carl agrees. He sounds choked up. “We don’t need him.”

She lets that lie stand. It helps to lie. And when Fiona gets home, Ian is a force of righteous fury. Mandy stays away from that. She stays upstairs with Carl, where there’s less screaming. She still tenses, though, when Ian gets particularly loud, and Mickey when he gets home.

They come upstairs still brimming with adrenaline. “We’re getting the fuck out of here,” Mickey says, tossing his coat in the corner of the room. “Now. Like, this week. How much money we have?”

“Why?” Mandy says. “What happened?”

“She won’t do a fucking thing,” Ian says, full of actual frustration for once. “I said she needs to stop Frank, get a restraining order, and she says we all have been through worse, like that makes it okay.”

“I mean we have,” Mickey says. “But only because we didn’t have any options. And this one does.” He sits on the bed by Carl too, and Ian next to him. “What about Liam, you think she can keep him safe?”

Ian shrugs. “Fuck it, who fucking knows. But we can’t take him too far, she’s his legal guardian. And Carl’s. If he wants to-“

“I want to come,” Carl says.

“So nearby,” Mickey says. “And we’re taking the kids. Good fucking… fuck. How much does a kid cost?”

“I pay my own way,” Carl protests.

“Lip could stay with us,” Mandy says. “Whenever he comes back. He’s done with Frank too.”

No quips, even from her brother. Just nodding.

“I’ve got an idea,” Carl finally says.

“Oh yeah, you big into real estate?” Mickey says.

Carl rolls his eyes. “I know Tony’s moving out,” he says. “How’s that?”

The big kids all look at each other. “Well that’s pretty good,” Ian says.

Mickey is the authoritarian. He hands out the house keys, and he’s really stern about it. “Listen. If you give these to anybody else, we’re changing the locks and banning you from the house. No one but us gets in here. Understand?”

Carl and Debbie take their keys solemnly. Mick put them on chains, too, so no one can take them easily. Mandy’s got hers on already, under her shirt.

“What about Liam?” Debbie asks.

Ian and Mickey look at each other. “We figure Frank will go after him, once he finds out we’re living here,” Ian says. “Carl, you can bring him with you, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Carl nods. “He can share my room, too. But what about Christmas?”

“The fuck do you mean,” Mickey sighs.

Carl shrugs. “Fiona does stuff for Christmas.”

“You can go back if you want,” Ian says after a second. “You don’t have to pick one, or anything. We’re here when you want somewhere to go.”

Mandy knows his face well enough to know better than to believe him. He wants his siblings to stay here, where he can keep an eye on them. But Carl can probably tell too. He nods, looks down. His hair covers the wound in his head, but Mandy knows it’s still there. He must feel it. “Okay,” Carl says after a second. “Thanks.”

“Y’kidding me?” Mickey says. “You set it up.” He looks around the room, and Mandy follows his gaze. The house is built like the Gallaghers, but it has all their shit in it, from their old house. The couch she found Mickey bleeding on, for one thing. She wonders why they wanted it. “Just be safe, first of all,” Mickey finally says. “We’re putting up Christmas lights and shit tonight. You can help if you want.”

Mandy retreats to the kitchen then, and Mickey follows her. Ian too, which kinda makes her want to go up to her room. The point was getting a second of peace.

“You going back to Fiona’s with Carl for Christmas?” Mickey asks.

“I dunno,” Ian says. “Isn’t holiday the time to be with family? Maybe I should. I dunno. What would we do instead?”

“Lana wants to bring Yev over,” Mickey says, trying to sound casual again. “Do some shit from her childhood, and I said that’s fine.”

“You want me to be there for that?”

“I don’t care, either way.” Probably a lie. But Mandy doesn’t have to keep track of who’s telling the truth anymore, because everybody here can tell.

“Okay,” Ian says, “but what do you want?”

“I dunno, stay if you want to,” Mickey shrugs. “Dee, you staying?”

“I don’t know,” she says. She liked Gallagher Christmas these past couple years, the warmth and fun and community. But maybe Mickey wants to build new shit for them to do, and she wants to be there for that too.

Mickey looks at her for a second, when he thinks she’s not looking. “Okay, well do whatever you want,” he finally says.

Ian comes to find her in her room a little later, when she’s unpacking. He knocks on her door. “Hey.”

She looks up, looks back down when she sees who it is. “Hey. What’s up?”

“I can read you like a book, Mandy. What’re you thinking?”

“Nothing," she begins, then changes her answer. “Nothing much. Busy time of year at work.” Lip got her a job as a manager at a department store. Still has to deal with some assholes, but that’s no big deal. At least nobody’s grabbing her ass.

Ian raises his eyebrows. “Work.”

“Well. Yeah.”

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not a fucking idiot, Ian.” She throws a cami at him. He catches it and tosses it back.

“Okay, fine. Let it never be said that I forced a Milkovich to tell me something about their emotions,” Ian sighs, and leaves her alone.

He’s just being dramatic. They tell him shit all the time. Mandy keeps putting clothes on hangers, and thinking about Christmas in two weeks. She likes the idea of Svetlana teaching them about their mother’s culture, but the Gallaghers are family too. Ian and Lip, Carl, Deb, and Liam. Kev and Vee, who are basically Gallaghers too.

She’ll have money for presents, for the first time in, like. Ever. No idea what she’d get anyone. Ian gets something for sure, Mick. The kids should. Maybe Lip, if he doesn’t act shitty between now and then.

There’s a commotion downstairs, and Mandy heads down the front stairs to see what it is. It’s Lip, like he’s summoned by her thinking about him, and when he sees her on the stairs he smiles in her favorite way, the realest one. He hugs her after he’s hugged all the kids. “Hey, Dee,” he says in her ear. And then he ends up in her bed after dinner.

She narrows her eyes at him when she sees him. “Did I say or do something to make this seem okay?”

Lip points at her. “No. But. I can’t sleep with our brothers, or with Deb, and Carl farts in his sleep.”

“So do I.” Mandy sits on the edge of the bed. “You could stay next door.”

“Could. Won’t. Still pissed at Fiona. Heard from Deb that Frank’s been in and out of the house since you guys moved out. Liam’s over here?”

“Yeah. Me and Ian have been getting him ready for school.”

Lip nods. “That’s good.”

“Move, you’re in my spot,” she tells him, and he does.

“You doing okay?” he asks after a long silence.

“Yeah.”

“No bullshit, I mean really.”

She looks at him. Like what gives him the right to ask that of her? He wasn’t even interested in knowing her before like two months ago. Fuck him. But only kinda, she likes him too. “I don’t know why you think I’d want to tell you,” she finally says.

“What do you mean?” Lip frowns.

“I’m not just here when it’s convenient for you.”

“Huh,” he goes after a second.

“All y’got to say? Really?”

Lip lights up a cigarette instead of answering, or maybe he’s stalling. “Dee, I know you aren’t,” he finally says. “I know I didn’t act like it. So.” He shrugs.

“So,” she echoes.

“So I’m asking cuz I care, asshole,” he says, sounding sharp.

Mandy knows better than to believe his tone. “Good,” she says. “You’d better. I’m alright. I’ve got a bed in a house, and.” And they’re safe. “Y’know. It’s fine, it’s good. So.”

“So,” Lip repeats. “So you’re good.”

“Yeah. I dunno what else to say.”

He holds out the cigarette to her. “Well, that makes two of us, yeah?”

She takes it, taps off the end in the ashtray on her nightstand. “Yeah,” she says. “How’s school?”

“Uh, y’know. It’s fine.”

“That's all you’ve got to say?” she asks after a second, passing it back.

Lip snorts. “God. Well. Alright, then. It’s tough. I’m always about two fuck-ups from failing out, and everybody there is being paid for by their parents. So.” He takes a deep drag.

“What do you mean, two fuck-ups?” Mandy asks.

“Like Liam going to the hospital again and something, or whatever Fiona fucks up that I have to miss class for.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” she says. “We’re here.”

“Yeah, but.”

“No buts. You’ve got a way outta here, and you’re getting out. We’re here to put out the fires. Three of us. Ian, Mickey, and me.”

“But they aren’t your responsibility.”

“Dude, I hate to break it to you but they aren’t yours either. They’re Fiona’s.”

Lip sighs. “Dee. You don’t get it.”

“Hey dumbfuck,” she says. “I get it better than you could even fucking imagine. Y’remember who my brother is?”

“Yeah, but I fail to see how it’s relevant.”

His obnoxious big words thing. She hates it, but now she can hit back. “I’ll tell you how it’s fucking relevant, Lip, because I wasn’t his responsibility but you try telling him that. But don’t, I don’t want him to punch you.”

“Okay… what’s your point?”

“You know my point, it’s pretty obvious.”

Lip’s smiling as he reaches past her to stub out the butt in ashtray. “Fine,” he sighs. “I get the point. But I don’t agree. It’s family. They’re my siblings, not yours.”

“Oh really? What about when Mickey and Ian get married, am I allowed to be worried then? How the fuck do you get to decide who’s allowed to care about your fucked up family?”

“I’m not trying to, you just… you shouldn’t have to worry.”

“I want to worry, Lip,” she says flatly. “Let me.”

Lip doesn’t answer, which is either passive aggressive or thoughtful. Mandy’s willing to wait and find out. She loves him. “Don’t laugh at me,” he finally says. “Okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“Me and Ian have put you through enough,” he mumbles.

She would laugh at that, because the Gallaghers always overestimate the amount they’ve hurt her. They don’t know she hasn’t been breakable since she can remember. But Lip asked her not to, so she doesn’t. Much. “Okay,” she snorts. “Alright. Whatever. You don’t get to decide what I care about, though. So don’t even try.”

“I won’t,” he says after a second. “Fine. But you can get out whenever you want. No pressure.”

“I don’t want out,” she says. “You’re the one who’s always wanted out.”

Lip puts his arm around her then, pulls her closer and tips his head against hers. “Maybe I’ll take you with me,” he says.

“Maybe I’ll let you,” she frowns. “Y’gonna let me sleep?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He flops down in bed, kicks off his jeans while she takes off her bra and puts on pajamas.

“You want to help me tomorrow?” he asks after a second. “There’s a proposal I’m writing for finals, and I heard you’re pretty good at that.”

“Oh yeah?” She’s torn between annoyance and flattery. He wants her opinion now? Really? He gets to decide when he respects her? But at the same time, she can’t keep being mad at him for not being perfect. “Maybe,” she says. “Proposing what?”

“My capstone project. The thing I’m gonna be working on all of next semester.”

So it’s actually important. “Okay,” she says. “Yeah.” She crawls into bed next to him, and she doesn’t know how to look at him if they aren’t fucking so she faces the wall.

Lip puts his hand over her back. Big hand, heavy. She’s torn between panic and sinking so far into the mattress she becomes part of it. “Dee.”

“What.”

“Thanks for caring.”

She’s blinking back tears before she can answer. “Go to sleep,” she finally says. Her voice is rough, and she knows he hears it but Lip just turns over and apparently obeys, for once in his life.

The first day of the kids’ Christmas break, Fiona shows up at their house. Ian, the fucking weak-ass traitor, lets her in. Mandy is sitting on the counter, eating a bowl of cereal, and Fiona narrowly avoids glaring at her. “We need to talk,” she says to Ian.

“Okay.” Ian plops back down on the couch with Mickey. “Talk.”

Fiona sits in a chair across from them, leaning her arms on her knees and looking at the guys fiercely. “They aren’t your kids.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Ian sighs.

“No, I’m serious. I get that you’re mad at Frank, but that doesn’t mean you get to take them out of a stable environment,” Fiona says.

“Stable?” Mickey says. “With the parade of dudes out your bedroom down to one, you’re suddenly the most stable person for the kids? You even seen Carl’s fucking head after Frank got to him?”

“Or how about when Frank broke my nose,” Ian says. “Or the dozens of other times he hurt one of us, or all the money he’s stolen to buy more fucking booze. I can’t believe you’re telling us we’re being unreasonable about this.”

The argument goes on, but Mandy stops listening. They all sound the same after a while, and Fiona doesn’t want her opinion anyways. Mandy keeps eating.

Lip comes down the stairs while they’re talking, and after he glances at the living room he ignores them and comes over to Mandy. “Hey,” he says. “What a way to start the morning.”

Mandy makes a face. “You’re not getting involved with that?”

“Nope. Fiona’s not changing her mind, so. What are you doing today?”

“Working. Noon to eight.”

Lip nods, smile growing on his face. “You like your job?”

“Y’know what ruins a nice gesture?” Mandy says, and she answers her own question after she takes another bite. “Fishing for more fucking gratitude.”

He’s still smiling. “You like it.”

“Yeah,” she admits. “A lot. Around the Christmas season, people are fucking terrible. And I get to tell them to stop shitting on my workers. So that’s fun.”

“Milkoviches, man. Happy when they’re yelling at people.”

Mandy looks pointedly over his shoulder at Ian and Fiona, who are currently yelling over each other, and then back at him. “Right,” she says. She hops down then, and heads upstairs.

“Hey," Lip says behind her.

“What?”

“I was joking.”

“Not funny. Try harder,” Mandy says, and keeps walking upstairs.

Deb’s at the top of the steps, leaning against the wall and listening. “How does Fiona look?” she asks.

“Fine,” Mandy shrugs. “Normal.”

Deb makes a face. “Not… like, sad?”

Of fucking course Fiona looks sad. But maybe not as much as she should, or at least not enough for the kids to go back with her. “I don’t know,” Mandy says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She checks on Carl and Liam next, who are both in bed asleep. Carl’s snoring a little, and as she watches he wakes up at a particularly loud “FUCK” from Ian. She shouldn’t have opened their door.

“Morning,” he says, cracking his eyes open.

“Hey.”

“Who’s fighting?”

“Ian and Fiona. And Mickey. And Lip probably, in a-“

“Jesus, Fiona!” Lip yells from beneath them.

Carl smiles a little, but he’s something else mostly. Angry and sad. “She wants us to come back?”

“Yeah.”

“I hate this,” Carl says after a moment, and Mandy feels her chest constrict.

“I’m sorry. Me too. She’ll probably go soon.”

Fiona doesn’t leave before Mandy has to go to work. They’re still arguing. She doesn’t know how they do it for so long without hitting each other. She’s glad she doesn’t have to listen to the whole thing, at least. She’d much rather deal with stupid fucking customers than this shit.

Lip’s in the kitchen, leaning on the counter and writing something in some notebook with a couple other books open around him. “Hey, how was work?” he says when he sees her.

“Y’know. Normal, terrible. What’re you doing?”

Lip smiles, and pulls something out of the oven. “Glad you asked.” It’s a plate, and it’s piled high with a baked potato and pulled pork. “Made you dinner.”

Mandy honestly can’t remember if he’s made her food ever, like once. Even microwaved anything for her to eat. It’s so thoughtful it’s suspicious. "Okay," she says. “Why?”

“Cuz I’m proud of you. And I told you, I’m gonna pay you back.”

“Pay me back,” Mandy repeats, pulls over the plate and Lip hands her a fork, too. And she’s gotta say, the food’s good. Kinda exactly what she wants after so much bullshit at work. “Well, alright. How long’d it take till Fiona yelled herself out?”

“She was here another hour or so after you left. And she didn’t yell herself out, but Ian and me just… yelled louder.”

“How’d the kids take it?”

Lip makes a face, the one that means he doesn’t want to think about what he’s thinking about. He shrugs too, and leans back against the counter. “Well, what the hell was I supposed to do, let Frank at them without putting up a fight? Monica, when she decides to come back?”

“No, I‘m not saying that.” She takes another bite before answering; she really likes this, who the fuck knew Lip could cook. “So what’s the plan now?”

“Ended with Mickey saying he’s going to shoot Frank on sight, if he tries to come inside any house that the kids are gonna be in, so. Pretty calm,” Lip says with his typical breezy bluster, and then he pulls out half a smile for her.

“Surprised he didn’t shoot Frank already.”

“Almost wish he would’ve.”

Mandy feels such a fierce burst of sympathy for him. They got along for a reason. She keeps remembering more of the reasons and it’s pretty damn inconvenient for the whole holding him accountable shit. “Well. Thanks. Work was hell.”

“Sure,” he nods.

Carl and Deb are on the couch when she comes back downstairs from her shower, and Liam is on the steps behind her. “Watching a movie?” she asks, filling a glass of water.

“No, but there’s a Chopped marathon,” Deb says. “Will you watch it with us?”

“Yeah, sure thing. Make room.” She plops down in the middle of them. Pretty quickly, Carl and Deb end up leaning on her. They’re silent, definitely don’t want to talk about it, so Mandy makes sure not to make it look like she cares. Just Chopped, and not paying any attention.

Ian’s down next, yawning. He makes Deb move to sit near her, and pulls her against his chest. “Love ya, Debbie,” Mandy overhears him say.

“Love ya,” she echoes.

Fiona should be here, she thinks. Should be the one to tell Carl she loves him, but all he’s got is Mandy. She does her best. She puts her arm around him, pulls him closer, and when she looks down she sees his eyes are shut.

Lip comes down too, looking for her, and when he sees them his face goes blank for a second. Then he sits on the floor in front of her and leans back. And Mickey’s in through the door soon after that, cold air curling through the room. “The fuck’s happening here?” he says.

“Chopped,” Ian answers.

“Hell yeah.” Mickey sits next to Lip on the floor, closer to Ian. Still next to Lip, though, which is a good sign for them getting along.

Ian speaks up a couple commercial breaks later. “Liam in bed?”

“Yeah,” Carl says.

“He brushed his teeth?”

“Yep.”

“Good.”

Then Debbie asks Ian, “Can we go over to Fiona’s tomorrow?”

“You can make your own decision,” he says. “You’re old enough. Both of you.”

“What about Liam?”

“If Liam goes, I’m coming,” Ian says. “We’re gonna ask him if he wants to tomorrow.”

“What about Lip?” Debbie asks, and Carl is definitely listening.

“He can come if he wants.”

“I’ll be there if you are,” Lip says. “More people around you, the safer you are. But it’s your choice. There’s no pressure.”

Lip and Mickey carry the younger kids up to bed once they’ve fallen asleep. Mandy and Ian follow them up. “Rough day,” Ian says.

“Yeah, no shit. You’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. You?”

“Yep.” And that’s it from Ian. They’re both tired, and they leave each other alone.

Lip flops into bed next to her after Carl’s in bed. “He’s getting too big for that,” he says. “Next time, I’m leaving him.”

She doesn’t know what to say. She puts her hand over his hair, and she says, “You don’t have to go, if.”

“I know I don’t have to,” he says. “I want to. I want to be there for them. ‘Specially since Frank probably will show up to ruin it, since that’s like. His special fucking gift.”

“Yeah,” she says.

Seems like Lip isn’t interested in being the smartest guy in the world tonight. He turns onto his side and looks at her. “Even Karen’s dad fucked her up,” he says. “I can’t think of a single person who hasn’t been fucked up by their dad. Even, like, fucking… Jesus. Y’know?”

She feels like laughing wouldn’t be appropriate. “Lip, you’re being kinda weird,” she says. “Weird dark mood.”

“Fuck off.” He’s not mad, he’s just grumpy. “Hell yeah, I’m in a dark mood, my sister’s lost her balls and won’t stand up against a guy who’s given three of her five siblings head injuries.”

“Yeah,” Mandy says. “That sounds pretty familiar.”

Lip forgot about the existence of her problems, as usual. “Oh,” he says. “What did you do about it?”

“Nothing,” she says. “Don’t recommend it.”

He grins at her, and she grins back. “Wow,” he says. “You’re full of good insight. Thanks. For that. Dunno what I’d do without you, ya piece of shit.”

“Fuck you,” she smiles back.

Her night routine has normalized now. She changes into pajamas, brushes her teeth and takes off her makeup, sets her alarm and turns off the lights. Lip does most of the same things in a different order, passing her in the hallway. He gets in bed with her at the end, and he finds her hand between them in bed. She wants to pull her hand away without making him mad, but she doesn’t know how.

“Hey Dee,” he says.

“What?”

“Your dad.”

His pause is making her real suspicious of his intentions. “The fuck you tryna ask me, Gallagher,” she says. “And since when do you not have words to say what you mean?”

“Since I’m trying to ask about when you were pregnant.” The silence following that is much heavier. “Yeah,” he says. “So.”

“What exactly are you trying to ask, then?”

“How…”

“Alright. Take your time,” she says, a little sarcastically.

Lip squeezes her hand. “Mandy.”

“I'm not into in being pitied,” she says. “Even by you. Especially by you.”

“I don’t pity you, I just… I didn't ask before, and I’m just realizing there’s so much I never asked you about so I don’t know it, about you. Like, some really important things.”

Mandy tries to talk past the lump in her throat. “Yeah. But I don’t want to rehash all that right now.” Christmas is dicey enough for her without digging up old ghosts. “Ask me later, when we’ve got less shit going on.”

“Okay. But.” He’s silent for so long she gets annoyed.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he finally says. “C’mere.” He holds onto her while they’re sleeping, arm around her under hers and holding her hand. It’s so nice, she doesn’t want to think about how short term this is. But it’s all she can think about. She dreams about him leaving without a trace again, off to bigger better things and abandoning her and her shitty South side life.

When she wakes up, though, Lip’s still holding her. She brings him coffee since she’s up first, and he thanks her for once. And then he asks, “What do you want for breakfast?”

“I dunno. I’ll figure it out. Why?” she asks.

“Cuz I’ll make it. Or go get it.” He takes a sip of the coffee and watches her over the rim of the cup. “Really,” he answers her unspoken question.

“I dunno. What about the kids?”

“We could all go out,” he suggests. “Might be good for them to get out of the house like that. Yeah?”

“Sure.”

“Alright, let’s go. Might want to put a bra on.”

She rolls her eyes at him. But she does put one on. “I’ll drive.”

On Christmas Eve, everything’s all fucked up. Svetlana comes over with Yev and some weird braided bread. She wants to do Russian shit, or maybe it’s Ukrainian. That’s kinda the whole problem, that she and Mickey don’t really know the difference. Mickey stays cuz he wants to build up some kinda family. Mandy stays with him. All the Gallaghers go back to Fiona, though. Pretty much everybody saw that coming.

Lip stops her before he goes, in the kitchen by the sink. “Hey,” he says. “Keep your phone on you, will you? If something goes down, I’ll call you.”

“If we don’t just hear you first,” Mandy says, and then she makes sure to give verbal confirmation. “Yeah, call. Me and Mick will be over in a second, if Frank shows up.”

“Okay. Thanks,” he adds, word sounding unfamiliar from his mouth.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” she says. And then she hugs him, cuz he looks like he needs it. “Be smart.”

“I’ll do my best,” he nods solemnly. But she knows the color in his cheeks means he’s already riled up before he’s even left the house.

Mickey’s better with Lana now. He sits next to her on the couch just fine, plays with his baby and pretends he knows more than three words of Ukrainian. Mandy watches from the chair, curled up with coffee. And it’s just fine, overall. It’s whatever. She should be with Ian and Lip, with Carl and Deb and Liam.

“Hey,” Mick says. “Space case. Where the fuck’s your head?”

“With our family,” she answers sharply. “Our actual family.”

“Real fucking nice to Lana,” Mickey glares.

“That's not what I meant and she knows it,” Mandy says. “How are you letting Ian over there without being there with him?”

Mickey sighs, and presses his knuckles into his eyes. “Mandy.”

“What, you want to play house more than-“

“Ian doesn’t want me there,” Mickey snaps. Lana shoots Mickey a sharp glance. Mandy’s honestly shocked. “He’s stopped me from killing his dad a couple times, guess he doesn’t want me to have the option again,” Mickey says after a second. “It’s fine.”

It definitely isn’t fine. He's hurt. And Mandy is too, on his behalf. She almost doesn’t want to pick up when Lip calls, but of course she does. “What?” she says, a little short.

“Hey, come here now, bring Mickey.”

“‘Kay, bye.” She hangs up and looks at her brother. “You coming?”

“Is there trouble?”

“Yeah.”

“Then yeah.” He stands up, stuffs his feet into shoes and looks back at Lana when he’s pulling on his coat. “We’ll be back. Hold down the fort?”

“I can leave,” she says stiffly.

“Nah, we haven’t done the tree yet. Stay, we’ll be right back.” On the walk next door, he pulls brass knuckles out of his pocket and slips them on his hand. “Told ‘em,” he says firmly.

“Yeah, but they had to go,” Mandy murmurs, and makes sure she’s first up the back steps. Just so Mickey can’t punch before he knows what the fuck is happening.

It’s not chaos, but it’s not great. They’re mostly in the living room, not the kitchen, so they have a couple seconds. Frank’s there, of course. Debbie’s at the sink, white as a sheet, and after a moment Mandy realizes the girl is bleeding from her nose. “Headbutted Dad,” she says. “Go get Liam.” The girl has priorities. Mandy appreciates that.

Frank has Liam and it’s pretty clear he’s a hostage even if there’s no gun to his head or anything. Fiona’s pleading with him, she’s desperate. Ian’s blocking the front door. Carl’s sitting on the coffee table, head in his hands, and Lip’s about a second away from murdering his father.

“Hey Liam,” Mickey says, doing a convincing job of sounding normal. “I brought you juice. C’mere, you can have it.”

And that does it. Liam’s anxious to get down. A squirmy five-year-old is not the easiest thing to hold onto, especially if you’re an alcoholic piece of shit, so Liam scrambles free and runs to Mickey. The brass knuckles are off Mickey’s hands when he picks Liam up, because he tosses them past everybody to Carl. “You guys got this?” he says to mostly Lip.

“Yeah,” Lip says. Deb comes forward with a baseball bat, and Lip cracks his shoulder in preparation.

“C’mon, guys,” Frank says. “It’s Christmas. I’m your father. Don’t throw it all away for petty resentments.”

“You tried to kidnap my brother,” Fiona says. But she doesn’t help beat him out of the house. The other four do, while she watches. And Mandy watches, because it’s not her dad to beat the shit out of.

The kids come back with Mandy, although Fiona tries to argue. It has a lot to do with Liam being next door probably. But all the kids sitting in her kitchen and living room, bloodstained but trying to joke it off, feels like her side won.

Lana is comfortable in this. She takes Deb to the bathroom to help her with the swelling in her face, gets extra supplies for decoration-making, and watches the door like a hawk whenever there’s the slightest noise outside. And maybe Mickey’s right, that she belongs in the family too. Their family shouldn’t leave out anyone who’s protecting them.

Lip’s got bloody knuckles and forehead and arm, where Frank scratched him. When Deb’s out of the bathroom, Lip tugs Mandy in with him next, and sits on the closed toilet to be taken care of. And so she does that. “Maybe this will stop one day,” she says dryly. “Could be some kinda goal.”

“It already is. Maybe I should get a new family. Or at least a new dad. New parents.” Lip puts his head back for her without prompting, and she presses toilet paper against the cut. “So you came, like right away.”

“I said I would.”

“Yeah,” he says after a second. “Follow through was never your problem, was it.” He wipes at the free side of his face, at tears that Mandy doesn’t think are just from her pressing too hard.

Mandy doesn’t mention it. She gets his head to stop bleeding and rinses all his cuts with peroxide, wraps up what needs it, and then she ends up just holding his hand, the gauze making it bulky and unwieldy. “Merry Christmas,” she says, her voice thick.

Lip hugs her around the waist, crushing her close, and she hugs back with her arms around his head. He doesn’t say anything. But that’s how she knows that for once, Lip is telling her the truth.

They hear Ian raising his voice, and Lip lets go to say, “Maybe we should get involved with that.”

“Mick says Ian didn’t want him there.”

“That's crazy.”

“I know.”

So Mickey and Ian are fighting. The yelling’s basically over when Mandy and Lip get out of the bathroom, and they keep the tension down for now. Don’t want to ruin the kids’ Christmas any more than they need to, probably.

Lip sits next to her on the floor, by the tree. He keeps his hand on her leg until she pushes it off, and then he just drinks, his body a shadow of hers a few inches away. She can feel him like another limb. And she knows he wants to hold her because he wants to be held, so eventually, when the only lights on are the ones on the tree, she pulls him closer with an arm around him.

“I’m sorry your dad’s shitty,” she whispers.

Lip laughs carefully, reluctantly. “Yeah,” he says. “Well, luckily it’s not a competition, or I’d feel real fucking stupid for complaining when you’re-“

“I swear to God, Lip. I’m not interested in talking about everything that’s happened in my life when I bring up a single thing about you,” Mandy complains. She starts to pull away, but Lip clings to her tight.

“No, no, sorry. I’m just deflecting. Don’t go.”

“I’m not going,” she says after a second. He needs to hear it from every person in his life, every second, and nobody else seems to hear him asking for it. “But you’ve gotta stop trying to piss me off, y’know.”

“I know,” he sighs, head drooping onto her shoulder. “I know.”

“I know you know,” she says. She remembers why she loves him best when he’s self-aware. That’s the person she did her best to get out of here. Only he keeps coming back.

Everybody’s falling asleep. Lana on the couch with her baby in her lap, and Carl and Deb next to her. Liam’s in Ian’s lap in a chair, and Mickey’s in the other. Lip’s heavy on her, his breath sharp, and she’s been trapped under a lot of heavy drunk men but she’s never felt trapped with him. Even at his worst.

“You wanna sleep down here?” she asks him after a bit.

“If you’re staying down here.”

He sleeps with his head on her stomach, and Mandy mostly lies awake and tries not to think about dating him again. And then she tries not to think about Christmases past, and all their various disappointments. This is a good Christmas, with all the people she loves most.

Liam and Yev are up at seven the next morning, less than five hours after everyone’s asleep, but they all get up anyways. Everybody has a decent pile of presents, a first for Mick and Mandy at least. Lana too probably. And they all open them together, at once, a wrapping paper tornado of happiness.

Mandy gets a smartphone from Ian and Mickey, a dress from Lana, perfume from Carl, some jewelry from Deb and Liam. Nothing from Lip.

There are other highlights from around the room. Carl gets a set of wrenches from her brother, which he seems super happy about. Deb gets Lip some book Mandy doesn’t recognize. Ian gets a fancy juicer. It’s great.

Mandy gets up while people are still going, gets a pot of coffee going. She turns around from starting the machine and finds Lip right there. “Surprised?” he says.

“Well, you do that kinda shit a lot. So not really.”

Lip seems disappointed for half a second, but he’s got something else on his mind. “Gotcha something.”

She’s relieved instantly, and endeared after that. “Okay. So give it to me.”

“It’s upstairs.”

So she follows him upstairs. It’s not huge; nothing visible in her room. He pulls something out of his dresser drawer and holds it behind his back. “Okay,” he says. “Look. I can’t get you into MIT.”

“Wouldn’t want to go to that stupid place anyways.”

“No, but. I wanted to do something like that for you, alright? So. Well.” He holds out the package to her. It’s a pretty big box, a smaller thing on top. She opens the small thing first.

It’s a letter. She looks at him after she’s read it. “I don’t understand.”

“University of Phoenix is the best online school there is. You can take classes online, get a degree. Don’t have to stop working or leave your brother if you don’t want to.”

“Online,” she repeats.

“Yeah. That’s the other part of this.” He hands her the box. It’s heavy. She has a feeling it was a computer before she gets into it, because that’s such a Lip thing to do. And it is.

“Don’t tell me this is too much,” he says. “I’m not going to ask you to be anybody you aren’t. But you’ve got just as much a chance as me to get out of here.”

“I’m not good at school, dumbass,” Mandy says. “I got a GED.”

“Y’know, I’m willing to bet that you’ll be a lot better at it without your dad breathing down your neck.”

Mandy can’t breathe. Her chest is too small for her lungs and heart. “Is this what it felt like?” she says. “When I got you into those schools. Were you…”

“Yeah,” he nods with a smile growing on his face. “It scared the shit out of me. But I was up for it, and so are you. Okay?

“Okay.”

“You’ll give it a try?”

“Yeah, shithead, I’ll try it,” she says. “Fuck. I’m not good at computers.”

“You can learn.” Lip hugs her when she puts down the computer box. “Good?” he checks, linking his arm around her.

“Good,” she confirms.

Of course, they don’t get more than like, three seconds of the hug before they hear yelling downstairs, but that’s more than she used to get. “Let’s go,” Mandy says, pulling away. “They probably need us.”

They do need them. It’s Fiona, and while she and Ian were talking on the front porch Frank came by. When Mandy and Lip get downstairs, Kev is helping block the door with Mickey and Ian’s in the middle of a fight with his father in the front lawn. And it looks ugly.

Lip pushes past Kev and Mick and then just stands there on the porch. It’s Carl who jumps in when Ian starts losing and helps kick Frank’s ass, as Fiona yells for Frank to stop. And it’s Deb who takes a baseball bat to Frank’s leg when he gets the drop on Carl and hits him in the face. Kev gets involved then, pushing between the kids and their dad and stopping the fight by just his presence. He calls the cops with one foot on Frank’s chest, keeping him down.

“Y’give him an inch, he takes a mile, Fi,” Kevin says disapprovingly. “You should know that.” Then the cops answer the phone and he starts talking to them, “Hey, I got a domestic. Can I talk to Tony?” 

“Who first?” Vee asks, opening her first aid kit on the porch railing.

“Ian,” Carl says, wiping his nose. “I’m fine.” He spits blood, but it’s not bad. Ian’s got two black eyes and a limp, and that’s just for starters.

“Y’should’ve let me take care of him,” Mickey says flatly, hovering as Vee starts to blot up the blood.

“Like hell,” Ian says. “You’ve done enough for me.”

“Yeah, well I do kinda love you, so.” Mickey runs his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Good job, Debs. Carl, you too.” He looks at each of them, at Mandy for a second and then he turns away from everybody because Mickey’s still not comfortable crying.

“Yeah that was some hit,” V says. “Shoulda played softball.”

“There’s still time,” Deb says with a brave grin. “Carl, you can stop that with toilet paper, go get some.”

“Shit, Ian,” Fiona says. “Did you really have to go after him?”

“Shit, Fi,” Lip says. “You really have to be here?” He leans back against the house, lights a cigarette. “I know you can’t stop giving him second chances, but how many times does he have to hurt us before you’re done? Cuz I’m done.”

Fiona looks at Vee for support; Vee studiously avoids her eyes. “That’s not fair,” Fiona begins, same tune as always.

But then the cops show up, unusually fast. “I was in the area,” Tony says after Frank’s in the back of his car.

“Any trouble keeping him in jail?” Lip asks.

“No. I’ll call tomorrow to find out if you want to press charges.” Tony glances at Fiona, his face unreadable for once. “How’s the house?” he says, addressing Mickey and Ian.

“Great," Mickey answers, because Ian’s a little busy getting his hand checked for broken bones. “New windows are doing great, never had a lower gas bill.”

“Good to hear. Happy holidays.” And Tony goes.

“How is this my fault?” Fiona picks up where she left off.

“Been enabling him for ten years,” Lip says. “And you keep defending him.”

“I’m not now.”

“Well, a little late now.”

“Fuck you,” she says. “I didn’t see you jumping in.”

“Yeah,” Lip snaps without missing a beat. “Well I’ve taken my fair share of hits from him, and you haven’t got any fucking room to talk. It’s cold, let’s get inside.”

Lana’s been inside with the youngest kids. Something about Mandy admires her cold practicality; not her family, not her fight so Svetlana stayed out of it. She’s smart. She watches everyone come in and her face gives nothing away.

Lip only stays inside long enough to put a coat on, and then he goes out the back. Everyone’s shaken up, she’s worried about them all. But Lip, she goes after him first. He’s hers. She puts on her own coat and follows him.

He’s smoking some more, sitting on the back steps. “Hey,” she says, sitting down next to him. 

“Yeah?” His speaking’s still clipped. He’s mad.

“This is more than just being pissed at Fiona or Frank. Isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he says after a second.

“Okay, so. What is it then?” They’re being honest together; she figures she can play that out a little longer. See what she can get out of him.

Lip takes the cigarette out of his mouth, fingers trembling, and exhales. His breath makes curls in the air. He sounds unsteady too. Mandy would hug him if she thought he’d let her. “Sometimes I freeze up,” he says after a long pause. “When it comes to Frank. When I was sixteen, Frank broke Ian’s nose, head butted him in the face, and I just… didn’t do anything. I dunno what the fuck is wrong with me.”

“Nothing’s wrong with you.”

“Well, they’re getting hurt on my watch too,” he says. “And I didn’t do shit.”

Mandy hugs him, and Lip doesn’t hug back but he doesn’t object. “Who taught Debbie to swing that bat?” she asks. “And Ian how to throw punches like that? And Carl?”

“Mickey taught Carl. I’ve been gone,” Lip mumbles.

“That’s all you’re getting out of this, asshole?” she demands, pushing him away. “Alright. See if I try this sincerity shit on you again.”

“Nah, I’m kidding,” he says. “I’m just. I’m just like him.”

She takes the cigarette from him and pokes his cheek. “You aren’t,” she says. “And I’m not going to let you wallow like this. You got a few things in common, alright? But that’s not the same.”

“Yeah,” he says. “If I have kids I won’t hit them.”

“Right.”

He sighs deeply, and presses his forehead against hers. “Would you have kids with me?” he asks casually.

“Fuck off,” Mandy rolls her eyes. “Come back inside, it’s cold.”

“Alright. Lemme finish this. You go.”

“Promise you won’t keep sulking?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. When I come back in let’s set up that computer.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Yep.”

She leaves him on those steps, smoke and breath curling into the air as he definitely continues to pout. But he’ll come back in, and he’ll help her. Feels a lot like equilibrium.

He leaves a few days after New Year’s, comes back less than a month later and falls into her bed and asks her, “What if I get a girlfriend?”

“What do you mean?” Mandy asks. She’s on her computer, not really paying attention until now.

“A girlfriend,” Lip repeats. “Specifically, Amanda. I told you about her”

“Why would I care?” she says.

“That’s what I’m checking.” Lip looks over at her. “You don’t?”

“Nope.” She definitely doesn’t want to date him, not when this peace they have is so strange as it is. “No,” she repeats. “Will I meet her? Or will that be too weird for you.”

“Sure, you can meet her. You really want to?”

“If she’s gonna be around for a while. Yeah.”

“She already has been, kinda. So.” Lip keeps glancing at her, and he says, “Well you’re sure, though?”

“My life hasn’t revolved around you for years,” Mandy says dryly. “You are aware of that, right?”

Lip grumbles under his breath and pushes closer to her in an aggressive attempt to hide the fact that he wants to snuggle. He puts his head on her shoulder and watches her type a submission. “I’m trying to be nice,” he says conversationally. “Don’t want to fuck up what we have.”

“You won't. Ask her out. How do you not have homework?”

“Turned a paper in on Thursday.” That doesn’t really answer her question, but she wasn’t looking for an answer. Lip keeps watching her work, sneaks his arm around her. “She’s rich,” he says. “Or her parents are. Faked dating her before and her dad gave me ten grand.”

“Y’think he’ll do that again?”

“Won’t count on it. But if he does, I’m giving part of it to Ian and Mickey. Since I’m living here.”

Seems like he’s fishing for a compliment. She ignores that. “Okay. You’re graduating in May, though, right?”

“Yeah.”

“This Amanda coming to Chicago after she’s done?”

Lip shrugs. “She’s looking. House, job, y’know.”

Mandy looks at him over her shoulder. “And you want to ask her out even though you don’t know if you’ll see her after May?”

“I thought you said you didn’t care.”

“I don’t care about her. I care about you. And I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

He lights up, tilting his head closer to hers. “I see. So you don’t trust her.”

“Gallagher,” Mandy says patiently. “I don’t trust anybody. Especially when it comes to you. Since you keep letting yourself get hurt by people.”

“I’m a softy,” he says, and he’s kidding but he shouldn’t be.

She turns back to her laptop, typing. “Bring her by,” she says casually. Lip likes to pretend things are casual. “Bet I can get Mickey to cook something.”

“Bet you can. Bet you can.”

Lip falls asleep while she’s ignoring him to finish the assignment, and Mandy’s annoyed for a second before she decides she’s not. He’s always on. It’s good, that he can shut off for a bit. Looking at him Mandy feels the same protectiveness as ever. Just none of the possessiveness or love. He’s her best friend and they share a bed, and she doesn’t need anything else. She can’t even bring herself to care if he fucks anyone else. It’s weird. But good.

He wakes up when she moves, complaining in an undertone about his side being cold and scooting closer. “Bad news, dude, I’m getting up,” she says, and he rolls over in dramatic angst.

“It’s nighttime. Where the fuck are you going?” he asks.

“Nowhere, I’m just brushing my teeth. You should try it.” She tosses the blanket over him.

He stops her before she leaves. “What do you think you’ll major in?” he asks, and she feels her heart beat hard.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Whatever will get me a job, I guess.”

“But what do you like?”

“Having a job. I don’t know, I haven’t found anything yet.”

“You like helping me?”

She doesn’t know why he keeps talking. Maybe because he’s tired. Or maybe he’s even interested. “Yeah, I liked helping you,” she says. “Why?”

“Maybe you’d like to help other kids from here.”

“Is that a job?”

“It could be. Just think about it.”

She does. As she’s getting ready for bed, she keeps running over Lip’s words in her head. He’s trying to help her find what she likes.

When she gets back to bed, he’s asleep most of the way. He moves to let her have her side of the bed, and then he puts his arms around her and kisses her cheek. “Hey,” she says. “Don’t get this twisted.”

“I won’t, I’m not. Promise.” He squeezes her for a second, but it doesn’t go any further. He starts snoring.

She’s not jealous. She meets Amanda, who looks her up and down in a way that’s assessing and more than a little condescending, and she sees what Lip likes about her almost immediately. He likes to condescend, and she knows how to stop that. Turns out she can shut that down just as well with Amanda, who listens like Lip. Probably a good center, just like Lip. Crusty exterior.

Mickey does cook dinner, but then he and Ian fuck off for a movie in their room and the kids are at Fiona’s. Dinner turns into her and the two of them, and Mandy’s ready for it to get awkward every second but it never does.

“Don’t suppose Mandy’s short for Amanda,” Amanda says dryly.

“It isn’t, actually. It’s short for Manya.”

Lip didn’t remember that; he covers it with a sly comment. “Not much shorter.”

“No,” she says. “Less Ukrainian, though. So Terry liked it better.”

“Oh yeah? Terry’s your dad?”

“Yep, and my mom’s dead. Are you enjoying this or something?”

Amanda colors a bit, and Lip has the decency to give in. “She’s prone to a bit of tragedy tourism,” he says. “Don’t worry. Did it to me too. We’ll get past it in a second.”

“Rich girl with a good family wants some excitement,” Mandy says. “Far from an original story.” She lets that sink in for a second, and then she adds, “Plenty of tragedy to go around here, though. You’re welcome to it.”

“I offer perks in return,” Amanda says with a raised eyebrow. “You look like you’re about my size. I could give you some great clothes.”

Lip must see something on Mandy’s face because he hops into the conversation fast. “It’s not like charity or anything. She just likes giving people shit. It’s weird,” he adds with half a smile.

Amanda rolls her eyes. “Sure,” she says. “Real weird.” She looks between the two of them. “So, Mandy. You in love with Lip?”

“Far from it,” Mandy says after a second. “No. We’re friends.”

“I see. But you live together.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, our brothers are basically married. Y’jealous?”

Amanda snorts. “No. But I like to know the situation I’m getting into. Where’s the bathroom?”

While she’s gone, neither of them jump on the opportunity to talk. They eat, and then Lip looks at her after several long beats. “Guess it’s going well,” he says. “Right?”

“You’re stupid,” she says. “I don’t need to like her.”

“But you do.”

She does. A lot. So she shrugs, and puts another bite in her mouth. “These dresses better be real fucking nice.”

No dresses tonight, but Amanda brought Lip a new smartphone, and Mandy a bottle of Jack, her favorite. Lip must’ve told her. Or maybe Amanda asked. Which kinda makes Mandy wonder just who exactly is on a date with who.

They drink, after dinner, sprawled out on the couch, and Lip plants himself right in the middle of them. “Amanda’s looking at apartments in River North area,” he says, like Mandy should care about that. “Two bedrooms.”

“Good for her,” Mandy says.

“Room for guests,” Lip clarifies.

“So I’ll finally have my own room again?” Mandy says, refusing to get the point.

“I know playing dumb can be fun, but I’d like to know if you’re actually interested or not,” Amanda says, her tone sharp.

“Just to be clear,” Mandy says, looking resolutely ahead, “you’re asking me to move in with you after one dinner together?”

"Obviously not," Amanda says. "I'm asking if you'll visit."

Mandy's first instinct is to scoff. This girl's a stranger, and kind of a bitch, and the thing is, Mandy would let herself be bribed. "I might," she says. "If they'll let me in."

"You'd let yourself in," Amanda says. "Is that a yes?"

Lip doesn't say anything, even when Mandy looks at him for some sort of clarification. He's peeling the label off his beer and refusing to meet her eyes. "It's not," Mandy says slowly. "It seems like you hate where we come from. Since you came over and all you want to talk about is going somewhere else." She regrets it as she's saying, sort of. It feels like before, when she kept blowing shit up and didn't know why, couldn't stop.

Amanda doesn’t say anything for a second, and when she does talk her tone is as flat as ever. "You're just as impossible as him," she sighs, and straightens her leg out. Her knee cracks. "I'm not trying to change you. Any more. I just..." She trails off, then clears her throat. "This sucks, saying this. But. I want to give you nice things, because you haven't got to have them. And I like you."

Mandy's cheeks flush hot. "Oh," she says, nervous suddenly. "Well."

Lip finally looks at her. "Hate when she says that."

"No kidding." Mandy's very self-conscious. "What do you want back?"

"Nothing," Amanda says, and immediately corrects herself. "You. I don't have a lot of friends."

"I don't know why, with that kind of offer." Mandy looks at Lip again, and Lip gives her a look she can't figure out. "I'll think about it," she says finally. She wasn't raised to turn down free shit.

Amanda leaves soon after for her nice hotel room, and then it's just Mandy and Lip, cleaning up after dinner. He washes dishes, she dries.

"So you like her?" Lip asks, scrubbing a pot.

"I could see myself liking her in the future," Mandy says. "But I don't really know her. Though that didn't seem to stop her."

"Yeah, she's like that. We sort of dated before, and the first thing she did was plan my days in five minute increments."

"Jesus."

"All in," Lip says with a smile in his voice.

"Guess so."

He looks at her, she feels it while she was putting away bowls and looks back. "You don't like that?" he asks.

"I don't know. I didn't know it mattered that much, what I thought of her. She's your girlfriend," Mandy says, finishes the sentence in her head. Not mine. And that feels significant in a way it never has before. Like maybe Mandy might want that. Not Amanda specifically, but. A girlfriend.

Lip isn't watching her during that realization, thank Christ. He's focused on silverware. "Yeah," he says. "Well. You're important."

She doesn't know what to say so she doesn't say much of anything. Sort of nods, and keeps drying things and putting them away. She’s thinking about the realization dawning on her, about Amanda, and she doesn’t notice exactly when Lip finishes washing dishes. She only knows when he comes to hug her.

He approaches slow, wanting her permission but not to wait. “Dee,” he says.

“Hmm?” That’s when she notices him, and she puts down the bowl and towel and lets him hug her from behind, arms over her shoulders. And Mandy holds onto him, his arm. He’s solid.

“You know she’s right.”

“About what?”

“You deserve nice things,” he says quietly.

"Shut up," she says. "I do like her."

"Cool," Lip says. They leave it there for the moment.

So on weekends about once a month when Lip comes back, sometimes Amanda comes too. She stays in hotels, which is probably best for all parties involved. Lip and her usually disappear for a while together, which Mandy tries not to think much about, but they always come back. Amanda brings gifts, of course. Food she knows they like, or clothes or makeup or video games. It's nice, yeah, but Mandy can't just accept it like Lip can. It feels like Amanda trying to make up for something, and that makes Mandy uneasy.

Days are packed with work and school, going out with Ian and Mickey every so often and helping Carl and Deb get their homework done. Mandy isn't looking for complications. She manages a B+ average at the end of her first year in college, and she isn't broke all the time. That's perfect.

Lip invites them to Boston for his graduation, and they drive together. Ian, Mickey, Carl, Deb, and Mandy pile into her car and hit the road on Friday, the day before. The drive takes all day, into the night. They stop once, in Cleveland for food and bathroom breaks. Mick and Ian head in for snacks together, holding hands. Mandy watches them go, thinking for a second about how if she ever had a girlfriend she'd have to be careful about that sort of thing. She isn't Mickey, she can't beat the shit out of people who have a problem. So that's a consideration, she thinks.

Ian and Mickey switch places for the rest of the drive, Ian up front and Mick in the back with the kids. The kids nap once it got dark. Mandy looks in the rearview mirror to see both the Gallagher kids leaning on her brother at one point, and Mickey reading something on his phone. They're really a family now, all of them. Her included.

"Mandy," Ian says quietly.

"Yeah."

"Lip," he begins, and stops. "You do a lot for him," he eventually says.

"I guess. If you want to look at it that way."

"No, I'm not... I'm not judging you, I'm just saying. What's, like. Why."

Mandy glances at him. "Ian."

"I'm worried!" Ian says defensively. "I'm just worried, you put so much into other people, and that's a good thing, but. Lip isn't the most... thoughtful. Person."

"I'm aware." Amanda's thoughtful, Mandy notes to herself. She never brings anything Mandy doesn't like. Some luxuries. One of those luxuries is the dress Mandy's going to wear tomorrow.

"Just... tell me you're being careful," Ian says.

Mandy whacks his arm. "Oh my god!"

"That's not a crazy thing to say!"

"I'm not in love with Lip," Mandy says in a very loud whisper. "So I have nothing to be careful about. I'm fine. Okay?"

Ian lets his head fall back against the headrest, and looks up at the ceiling. "It's not an unreasonable question," he says sulkily. "He sleeps in your bed every night he's there, basically."

"Because we're out of rooms," Mandy says. "How long have you been sitting on this?"

Ian huffs and doesn't answer, which probably means he's been worried for a while. "Are you sure?" he asks.

"He has a girlfriend," Mandy says. "And I like her a lot. I'm really fine. I've been over him for years, dude."

"I know, I know," Ian sigh, and looks out his window. "I don't want you to be disappointed. You're like the best person I know."

"Wow, asshole," Mickey speaks up. "Nice."

"You know what I mean," Ian says, twisting to look at Mickey with a scowl.

"Sure do. We're getting a divorce."

Ian rolled his eyes, and settled back into his seat. "God forbid I try to be supportive of my best friend," he says under his breath.

"I feel very supported," Mandy tells him. The three of them kinda snort, and the car falls silent.

She's navigating Boston's twisty streets when Ian brings it up again. "You're a great friend," he says. "Lip is lucky to have you."

"I know," Mandy says. "The sun also shines out of my ass."

"Alright. You're tired, so I'll pretend you didn't say that."

"Pretend I didn't tell you she shits rainbows," Mickey suggests.

"Huh?" Carl wakes up around then. "Who's shitting?"

"Nobody," Mandy says. "Put your shoes on, we're close."

They’re staying at Amanda's place for the night. Lip's apartment is too small for guests, and probably too much of a wreck. Turns out Amanda's place is basically a hotel anyways. A one-bedroom place with a king bed and a large sectional couch and crown molding. Warm brown and brick walls, shelves full of interesting books. There's some sort of fancy modern chandelier over the dining table. Mandy almost can't believe one person lives here, but she keeps that to herself. She's a guest here.

Amanda's prepared the place for them. "Okay," she says as they're all taking their shoes off near the door. "So I've got blankets and pillows on the couch, snacks and beer in the fridge, you can use the TV as long as it's not that loud, and the bathroom's in the hall here."

"Is there a schedule of events for the night?" Mandy asks dryly.

"No," Amanda says, a little annoyed. "Lip will be over soon."

Mandy feels like maybe she should clarify that was just a joke. "Cool," she says.

They’re settling in. The kids lay claim to different parts of the couches. Mickey and Ian set up on the floor, and the Mandy is shaking out a blanket when Amanda taps her shoulder. “Nope,” she says. “You’re in with me.”

“Oh,” Mandy says. “Okay.” She lets herself be led down to the hall to the bedroom, and it feels a little bit like there’s gravity on the end, pulling her.

Amanda’s bedroom is as neat as the rest of the house. She’s got a king-sized bed, Mandy notices first of all, and a wide closet. Another bathroom here, one that looks nice through the door. Mandy puts her bag down on the thick rug and her hands in her pockets.

“Nice place,” Mandy says, and feels like that’s totally inadequate. This apartment is on a different level than anything Mandy knows.

“It’s alright,” Amanda says. “I’m packing it up in a month anyways.”

Mandy nods. That’s getting closer, and as it does she’s starting to doubt that it’s a good idea. Amanda likes things that are nice, and Mandy’s the opposite of that in basically every way. But that’s not what they’re here to talk about this weekend.

“So did you pick a job?” Mandy asks. Amanda has several offers.

“I think so. Stern’s got a better benefits package. Come on.” Amanda ushers Mandy back out into the kitchen and pours them both a glass of wine. Mandy has a sip, watches Amanda examine the living room full of people. “So this is what it’s like,” she says.

“You’ve been to our house before,” Mandy says. “You know what it’s like.”

“Yeah, but it hasn’t been in my space.” Amanda’s staring at Mickey and Ian arguing over some bullshit with smiles on their faces. “Huh. How was the drive?”

“It was fine,” Mandy says. “Long. But we made it one piece, which is more than I could say for if Mick was driving.”

Amanda snorts. “Yeah, I’ve heard. Do you want anything? Snacks, or-”

“I’m good,” Mandy says. “Really. Appreciate you letting us stay here, even, so.”

“Oh totally.” She’s awkward. They both are. But it seems like Amanda might be more awkward than normal right now.

“Hey, Dee,” Mickey says from the couch. “Any reason Gallagher’s calling me, not you?”

Mandy frowns, shakes her head. Mickey picks up the phone and heads over towards them. “Hey asshole,” he says, and listens for a second, making eye-contact with Mandy. “Okay…” he says, and snaps a couple times at Ian. “Get your shoes back on,” he says away from the phone, and then into it, “Yep.” He hangs up, looks between Amanda and Mandy, and says, “Any idea what bar Lip hangs out at?”

“Yeah,” Amanda says. “Why?”

“He’s picking a fight,” Mickey says, with total exhaustion and understanding, and Mandy goes to put her shoes on. Ian’s already there, tying his shoes again. Mickey points at Carl and Debbie. “You two are staying here. Behave yourselves.”

“No, we wanna come,” Debbie complains, hopping up.

“You can’t,” Ian says. “We don’t know any cops here. If anybody gets arrested, especially you, they could take you away. And we’re not going to risk that.” He looks at Mandy, and she nods. Mickey does too, and grabs a roll of paper towels off the counter to tuck under his arm. “Keep your phones on,” Ian adds.

“Can we drink?” Carl pipes up.

“You can have one drink when we get back, if you’ve been good,” Mandy says when nobody else answers. She zips up her boots and adjusts the hat on her head. Amanda is still in the kitchen. “You coming?” Mandy asks her.

“Not much use in a fight,” Amanda says.

“We need a driver,” Mandy says. “And directions.”

So Amanda comes with, and drives them in her car. After a few tense minutes of initial silence, she speaks up. “Any idea why Lip would pick a fight the night before graduation? Did he say who it was with?”

“Dunno if he knows,” Mickey says. “He was hammered. Just said he might not be home for a while. That there was somebody he had to take care of.”

“Fuck,” Mandy sighs.

“Goddamn it,” Ian says simultaneously.

“Almost like the guy’s an asshole,” Mickey says.

Mandy presses her lips together and doesn’t respond. Silently, she wills Amanda to drive faster.

The bar’s only ten minutes away, but by the time they get there the fight is already pretty well underway. The boys are out of the car before Amanda’s parked, and Mandy’s close behind because Lip, as usual, has gotten in over his head. He’s being whaled on by four dudes, and while he probably got some good hits in at first, he’s just getting his ass kicked now.

Mickey puts himself directly between Lip and the other dudes, before anything else, and gets sucker punched for his troubles. Ian throws the first punch, actually, and Mandy hops on some other dude’s back and uses her weight to get him on his knees. “Party’s over,” Mickey says, and head-butts somebody.

That gets the message across well enough, and the dudes go their own separate ways. That just leaves Lip, bleeding from like six places and held up by Mickey.

“You’re a fucking idiot, y’know that?” Ian says, wiping his nose.

“So I’ve heard,” Lip says. He’s cradling one wrist against his chest, and blood is dripping in his eyes from a big cut on his forehead. Somebody who punched him was wearing a ring.

“What was this dumbass fight over, huh?” Mickey asks, and gets Lip walking towards Amanda’s car. Ian and Mandy follow, on either side of them.

“They said I was lying about going to MIT,” Lip mumbles. From the sound of it he knows what a dumb shit thing it is to fight over, but he still did it anyways. Self-sabotage is in his fucking blood, just like Frank is, and he’s given in again.

Amanda has the engine running for them, and doesn’t say anything when Mickey takes the front and Mandy gets in back with Lip and Ian. “Hospital?” is all she asks.

“Nah,” Mickey says. “The asshole’s gonna live. If you got a first-aid kid, he might even look alright tomorrow.”

“I do,” Amanda says.

Mandy doesn’t know if she’s supposed to be mad at Lip or not. She feels Ian nudge her, like that clears anything up, but she stays where she is, arms crossed and sat in the middle of the two boys. Then, Lip moves. He wipes his nose with his good hand, sniffs, and looks over at her. “Shit seems to follow me,” he says, like it’s a joke.

“You seem to go looking for it,” she answers, and for once he doesn’t have a good comeback.

Ian helps him out of the car when they’re back at Amanda’s. He holds his brother up with one arm, gets doors with the other. Amanda leads the way. Mickey falls into step behind, with Mandy.

“This is the guy you’re doing shit for?” Mickey says under his breath.

“Hey, I’m not the family genius,” she says, and her brother laughs. “You’re the one who hopped in there for him, anyways.”

“Prove it,” Mickey says, and puts his arm around her shoulder.

Another bathroom, another evening patching up Lip’s face. Mandy takes the lead on that, given her relevant experience. He’s got a cut on his forehead that needs to be stitched up, and just shrugs when she asks if he wants a hospital.

“Just do it.” He’s not sober. Doesn’t really seem to feel it.

Amanda stands in the doorway, watching, arms crossed over her chest. Mandy's about three stitches in, with a few more to go, and Lip has zoned out. His eyes are open but he's not there. "This happens a lot?" Amanda asks quietly, in a tone Mandy hasn't heard from her before.

"It did in high school," Mandy says. She bites her lip in sympathetic pain as she finishes up, even though Lip doesn't flinch. Once it's tied off, she presses a thick pad of gauze over the spot and holds it there. Lip sniffs. "Nose still bleeding?" she asks.

"Not much," he answers. His lip is swollen, she can hear it. She makes eye contact with him. His face is kind of gross. "How bad is it, doc?" he asks.

"Pretty bad. How's your wrist?"

"Just sprained." He lets her manipulate it, bend it a couple different ways even though she can see that hurts. "Just wrap it up, it'll be fine."

"How do you feel about going on stage with that black eye tomorrow?"

Lip looks at her again. Looks like he might cry, or fall asleep, or throw up. Maybe all of them. "At least I'll stand out," he says, and manages to smile a little bit.

Mandy isn't sure he should be smiling. "The fuck were you thinking, Gallagher," she says, and digs in Amanda's first aid kit for the ace bandage.

"Well I was drinking," he begins.

"Not a real question,” she cuts him off, and Lip gets the message. He shuts his mouth, and lets her clean up his bloody knuckles.

When Mandy looks up, Amanda’s out of the doorway. It’s just them. Honestly, it doesn’t feel much different. Mandy finishes up the bandaging and looks Lip right in the eye. “Listen up,” she says. “You don’t get to run anymore. You’ve gotta talk to Deb and Carl.”

“Can’t we just pretend nothing’s wrong?” he asks, weary and rough. “For a day?”

At one point, Mandy would’ve done anything he asked her. “Not this time,” she says. “Talk to them.” And to her surprise, he obeys. He sits them down, he tells them he was just a fucking dumbass, and it’s over so much faster than pretending it didn’t happen would take.

But the night isn’t exactly easy after that. Lip’s far from sober even still, and Mandy feels it in the clumsiness of him reaching for her to pull her closer. They don’t touch like that anymore. It’s been a while since they have, and the unfamiliarity of it and the uneasy edge of the night puts her stomach in her mouth. And for once, Mickey doesn’t catch when her thoughts turn to their dad, so when she gets up to make herself busy in the kitchen she does that on her own.

The thought of a beer makes her sick, but there’s an open bottle of wine she pours herself a glass from, has a shaky sip of. It’s fine, she knows Lip. Knows he doesn’t mean anything. But Mandy’s had more than her fair of drunk men groping at her, she thinks, and more than enough experience to be wary. Just in case.

Amanda eventually joins her in the kitchen. “You alright?” she asks without looking directly at Mandy. “You seem a little antsy.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Mandy answers. “Crazy night, is all.”

“You could say that again. But I hear this is what the Gallaghers are like.”

Mandy has to laugh. “Yeah, basically. Us too, really. Regretting it yet?”

“Not yet,” Amanda says, with a sly smile, and she sidles a little closer. “Y’know I don’t mind, right?”

“What? Mind what.” Mandy has another sip.

“If you guys… I mean, we sort of have an agreement. If you’re interested in that,” Amanda shrugs.

“In your boyfriend?” Mandy says in bewilderment, and then it sort of hits her, that Amanda thinks she shied away because she didn’t want Lip to cheat. “Oh, no, I’m not,” Mandy says. “Not at all.”

“Are you sure? You live together,” Amanda points out, and Mandy thinks that she’d never have agreed to that if she knew it would be used against her by basically everyone. “I’m just saying, I’m good at sharing.”

“Thanks,” Mandy says. “But I’ve kind of sworn off… well, men. For a while.”

“Oh,” Amanda says, looking briefly put out. “Just men?” she asks then, and Mandy’s heart jumps in her chest.

“Hey ladies,” Lip says, limping over. Great timing as ever. “You guys doing good?” he asks, and Mandy circles the island to stay across from him before answering.

“Great,” she says. But something about the look in his eye, or the echoes of what she was feeling before has her still feeling tender. Amanda catches that, this time. She frowns at Mandy this time, and when Mandy downs her wine and heads for the bathroom, she discovers she’s picked up an inconvenient shadow.

Amanda follows her in and shuts the door behind her. “I didn’t tell you we were cool with it to freak you out,” she says. “I meant it.”

“I know,” Mandy says. “That’s not… it’s not about that.”

“You swear?” Amanda says dubiously, but when Mandy nods she seems to believe her a little more. “What’s it about, then?”

Mandy isn’t sure how close they are, but she knows it’s not close enough to tell Amanda Lip’s touch reminded her of her father. “I’m,” she begins, and stops. “I’m really good,” she tries, but Amanda shakes her head.

“No, girl,” she says. “We’re past that. Tell me the truth. What’s up?” And Amanda’s leaning against the sink, not going anywhere, so Mandy gets the message. Amanda’s here. She’s not going anywhere.

“I’m, uh. I’ve had some… experiences,” she finally gets out. “I’m, like. Not the most comfortable with drunk guys hitting on me. Even when I’ve known them my whole life. That’s all. It’s more about him than you.”

Amanda nods, looking thoughtful. “Okay,” she says. “You want to make it a little more about me, then? For the night?”

“What do you mean,” Mandy said, her voice catching.

Amanda holds her hand out for Mandy’s, and Mandy gives it to her hesitantly. She lets herself be pulled in closer towards the other girl, heart pounding in her chest. It’s not a surprise when Amanda kisses her. It’s sort of a confirmation, more than anything else.

“I’ve kind of been dying to do that,” Amanda says then.

“I still really have to pee,” Mandy says, wrinkling her nose. “Sorry.”

Amanda laughs. “Don’t be,” she said. “Take care of that. We can talk after.”

"Okay," Mandy says, and once she's alone in the bathroom, door safely shut, she takes a second for a deep breath first. What a night.

It's late, so they end up going to bed instead of doing anything fun tonight. Carl and Deb are asleep when Mandy comes back to the living room, Lip's zoned out, and Mickey's yawning. "Wanna help me get this guy to the bedroom?" Amanda asks her, and Mandy nods. It takes both of them, even with Lip cooperating.

Amanda takes the middle. "My house my rules," she says when Lip objects, and Mandy starts to see how a rich nerdy girl could protect her, too.

Lip makes it to graduation the next day, and the makeup Mandy manages on him makes him look just sort of rebelliously bruised up. Less insane. The pictures from the day are worth keeping.

After all the different permutations of Gallaghers and Milkoviches in pictures, Amanda grabs Lip and waves Mandy over and takes a selfie of just the three of them. Lip's smiling, even. "Graduated," Amanda says. "Despite your best efforts."

"Please don't talk that loud. I need eggs. And toast, or something." Lip takes his hat off to massage his temples. "Concussions really add something to a hangover," he adds dryly. "You should try it."

"I'll pass," Amanda and Mandy say in unison, and Mandy's smile after that lasts forever, just about.

They pile into a booth in some 24-hour diner, all seven of them. Ian pulls over a chair from a nearby table, and Carl ends up squished against the window, and somehow they all manage to fit. It feels right. It’s a Gallagher kind of celebration. But sometimes Lip’s smile fades, and sometimes Deb gets lost in space and Ian’s the one who finally says, “I wish Fiona could come.”

“I dunno.” Lip stirs his water with his straw. “I’m having a pretty good time anyways.” He shoots Amanda a look, then Mandy, and then he can’t pretend it’s alright anymore. He looks away.

Amanda leans close and speaks in Mandy’s ear. “I’ve got a feeling that means something.”

“Oh, yeah,” Mandy says. “The looks. They all do.”

“Was that one, like, jk I’m secretly sad?”

Mandy nods. “Actually, yeah. Mostly. It was also kind of a little bit about how much he loves you.”

Amanda tilts her head onto Mandy’s shoulder. “You’re cute,” she says.

“You two are gross,” Carl grins.

“Your face is gross,” Amanda counters, deadpan, and adds, “Can I try that?”

“Sure. Can I try yours?”

“Just a sip,” Amanda says. So she has a sip of Carl’s hot chocolate, and he has a little of her Bloody Mary. Mandy would never tell her, but that’s sort of when she’s officially family.

**Author's Note:**

> I stopped watching Shameless because of how they treated the Milkoviches. Mandy goes from insightful and complicated and loyal to dumb and meek and forgotten? Lip just ditches her, the person who actually Got Him? Mickey and Ian keep breaking up with each other for no fucking reason?? It's just not realistic!! 
> 
> I get that the Milkoviches are the Bad Family used to teach the Gallaghers lessons in the narrative but they both deserved so much better. Hopefully this delivered.


End file.
